Double Trouble and a Miracle
by airwolf addict
Summary: Story 29. Things on a personal level seemed to be improving, but how long will that last when a particularly risky mission puts everything the Hawkes have been working so hard to gain in jeopardy?
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE: This story in a sequel to "Hit List" so it would probably make a lot more sense is you read it first if you haven't already. And of course I'd recommend reading all the others too ;)**

CHAPTER 1

Still supporting a good portion of her weight, Saint John Hawke helped Ellie across the room and back to the hospital bed. "That was better," he encouraged, happy to see some progress, no matter how little it seemed to be.

"Really? Is it actually better? And I mean honestly, Saint John."

"It is."

"Alright," she said, breathless, "that's enough for now." She dropped onto the edge of the bed, ungracefully climbing back underneath the covers as Saint John tucked her in.

"You know, the doctors would probably have a fit is they knew what you were up to."

"But they think I'm doing great in physiotherapy. And you can't tell me you haven't done the exact same thing. What happened anyway - how'd I end up in a coma?"

"Ellie, is not-"

"It is. I want to know. Please, Saint John."

"I wasn't there so I don't know all the details, but you had gone to Italy to visit a friend and got in an accident. You spent a couple weeks there until you were…. life flighted…. back here to Van Nuys."

"What…. what about Joshua? Is he… did he live?"

"He had hardly a scratch."

"Where is he now?"

"School at the moment, just started a few weeks ago. I was going to wait a little while to bring this up, but it you're ready now…"

She nodded.

"No one had any clue if you'd wake up so he was put into foster care."

"Foster care?" she interrupted, "he … I understand the reasoning, but…."

"Ellie, it's alright."

"No, it's not alright. How can you say it is? He's-"

"Adopted."

"Oh no! Adopted! What am I supposed to do know? That's my son in…."

"Ellie, listen. It's alright, just listen to me. I adopted him. That way if you woke up, you could have custody back if you wanted, and if not I would see that he was cared for."

"_I promise I'll take good care of Josh too, just like he were my own son, that was what I was hoping for anyway, if you'd have me. I'll be here if you ever need me, Ellie Mae, don't you forget that. Ever."_

"Did you say something about that before? It does sound vaguely familiar now that you mention it."

"A while ago, but after the accident. It's been an interesting experience, but he'll be glad to have you back."

"Have you told him yet?"

"No, I just found out."

"Would you mind holding off a little while?"

"I can if you want, but String and Chance came by, and something is liable to get out sooner of later."

"I know. It's just, I don't feel I've been a very good mom - after Arthur was killed…it's just been one thing after another. I'll be the first to admit I've questioned my parenting abilities more than a couple times."

"I've questioned mine too. Le was the only one I've dealt with much, and I wasn't even there for the first twelve years of his life - what kind of parent is that? Honestly, Josh has been a bit of a challenge, but we've managed; it was a challenge I was willing to take on, otherwise I wouldn't have adopted him in the first place. You've got plenty of trials ahead of you and I'm here to help as much as I can."

"Thanks," she said gratefully, wrapping her arms around him, "that means a lot more than you probably realize."

He dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead before taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, "and I mean every word."

"I'll hold you to that."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

\A/

"Can you do it once more?"

Ellie Mae nodded with false confidence. The way she saw it, the sooner she could get out of the hospital and do things for herself, the sooner life could go back to how it was, but three months of laying in a bed had ebbed away much of her muscle strength, making even simple tasks difficult and exhausting. She slowly took each careful step around the seemingly ever-lengthening physical therapy room, feeling as if her legs would collapse under her at any point. That was the last thing she needed. A multitude of helping hands would reach out to catch her, but another setback as far as her recovery simply wasn't acceptable. Saint John promised he'd be with her every step of the way, but she couldn't expect him to put his life on hold while she tried to catch up either, this was just something she had to do.

"Great job, your progress really is remarkable," the nurse praised.

Ellie was oblivious. Saint John was standing at the doorway, a pleased smile on his face - that alone almost gave her the strength to run all the way across the room to him. If only he knew what he did to her, she thought, if only he had the slightest clue.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

**4 Weeks Later**

"Where's Cait? I've been meaning to ask you all day, but we got busy and I never got the chance."

"Back at the cabin; she was feeling a little under the weather. Said she'd rather take a day or two off now and kick it before it gets any worse."

"Make sense."

"What about Ellie? I hear she's doing pretty well with therapy."

"Well, she's no Hawke, at least not yet, but she's not doing badly."

"Of course she's no Hawke. If she were, she would have limped down the hallway and gotten out of that place long ago, probably about killing herself doing it, but she wouldn't have stayed as long as she has. In other words, she still has some common sense. What's this about not yet though? You two planning on getting married?"

"That's probably too much to hope for, but you never know. Right now we're just going to take things one day at a time and see how things play out."

"Sounds good enough. I wouldn't suggest proposing like I did though."

"I'll try to keep that in mind, it did look a little painful. It worked out though - what almost four years now?"

"This October. And yeah, it has worked pretty well, but it was a lot more than a little painful. Truthfully, if Caitlin hadn't been there for me, I'm not sure I would have made it this far. You really don't want to know some of the things I was thinking - not being able to fly, possibility of not being able to ever again, almost constant pain in my leg, and the numbness. I was so fed up with it; it really was a good thing she was the one dealing with me, because in her place I probably would have killed me. Ellie more than likely won't try that, but it can be hard to deal with all the sudden limitations, and having someone there for you really does help a lot."

"Speaking of Ellie, I'm going to pick her up as soon as we finish here, you want to come along?"

"Nah, if it's alright I think I'll bow out of this one - gotta get back to Cait, and in case Chance still has any of that bug left, the last thing Ellie needs is to get sick on top of all this."

"Ok then, see you Monday."

"Monday."

\A/

Home sweet home, almost. Close enough, she decided. She wasn't quite to the point where she could easily take care of herself, and he insisted she shouldn't be alone. Besides that, she had spent plenty of time hanging out at Saint John's apartment before the accident and was well acquainted with it while he and Le weren't as used to her house.

Anyway she looked at it, it sure beat staying in the hospital for another couple weeks. Reluctant as it had been, the doctor had agreed to let Saint John take her home with the promise that he would see to it she got everything she needed. So this was home, at least for a while.

"Alright?" Saint John asked for what seemed like the millionth time, genuine heartfelt concern in each of those million times.

"Fine," she replied, offering him a smile she hoped would do something to convince him of that.

"I'll get you all settled in then," he said, carrying her bag in and continuing to the bedroom at the end of the hall. He was already nearly finished clearing a wide path through the cluttered bedroom to the bed by the time Ellie Mae reached the doorway and realized what he was planning.

"No, no, I couldn't," she objected.

He would have no part in it though.

"You've taken care of my son, visited, helped me with my therapy, and now I'm in _your _home. I can't kick you out of your own bedroom too."

"Don't view it as kicking me out. I volunteered."

"No, it just isn't right. I couldn't."

"Ellie."

"Don't Ellie me. I said no. I'm not taking over _your_ room."

"You're still recovering and you don't need to even try sleeping on that old couch."

"And you do?"

"Don't worry about it, I don't sleep much anyway."

"It's not fair, it's not right."

"Ellie," he addressed, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her nearer to him. "I want to. If I didn't, I wouldn't have offered."

"For now," she finally gave in, "but this isn't going to become long term."

"Understood," he answered with a mischievous grin.

"Do I even want to know what you're up to?"

"Up to? Who said I was up to anything?"

"That grin would give you away any day and you know it."

"Then I guess you'll just have to wait and see what all this grinning like a madman is about."

She shook her head, an amused smirk flickering across her features nevertheless. "I should be worried, shouldn't I?"

"You'll just have to wait now. I'll go see about fixing some dinner," he said, changing the subject abruptly. "Anything in particular tickle your fancy?"

"Anything is good with me."

"Peanut butter and jelly then?"

"Hey, it's better than hospital food."

"True, this'll be your first real meal in quite a while."

"Excluding all the goodies you've been smuggling in for me."

"But your first meal since you've been out. I think this calls for something special."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"Wow, that's quite a feast," Ellie Mae remarked, taking her seat at the table, "and it all looks great."

"Not quite the arrangement I had hoped for, but it'll due for now. Tomorrow we have reservations at Patina though."

"Patina? Are you serious?"

" 'Fraid so, but for now let's just try to bear through this turkey tetrazzini."

"Get through it? It looks delicious."

"Uncle Saint John makes good food," Joshua agreed.

Saint John shrugged at Ellie's questioning glance. "It's long story," he silently mouthed with a look that told her it would indeed be a long conversation.

\A/

"What do you want for dinner then?"

"I'm not sure I want anything; I really don't feel that great."

"Cait, you need to eat something."

"And how many times have I told you the very same thing?"

"More than a few," he admitted ruefully, "and you usually won. This time you don't get to though."

"Not this time. I'm serious about not feeling well, and what good does it do to eat if I can't keep any of it down?"

"Try. I'm fixing - whatever you want."

"No, the only thing that even vaguely appeals at the moment it maybe a steak, and that isn't going to quite work." She picked up her abandoned paperback and dropped down onto the sofa. "I might raid the refrigerator later or something," she said absentmindedly, oblivious to her husband not joining her as she had expected him to and concentrating on her book until he came back a while later with a steaming plate of food in hand.

"Medium rare ok?"

Startled, she looked up at him and the plate of food. "Steak?"

He nodded. "Medium rare."

"Perfect. But how….why?"

"You needed to eat something. Dom's always leaving some kind of meat up here, and-"

"And it's amazing," she interrupted between bites. "You could have been a professional chef. When did…."

"Haven't always been vegetarian, you know."

"This is outstanding, but I didn't mean you had to fix me something special."

"It's no big deal. Now enjoy your food before it gets cold."

"Alright, thanks again."

"No problem." He glanced toward the clock then back to Caitlin. "If you're all set then, I'm going to check on Chance and head on to bed."

"Ok, I'll be up in a couple minutes."

\A/

**The Following Morning**

**Knightsbridge**

"Stefan Keller and Amira Bahadili, German and Iraqi respectively, both are notable accomplished in physics, aeronautics, and psycho analysis."

"And this has to do with us how? They haven't stolen Airwolf, tried to, attacked any of us, or stolen any secrets, so what do you want us to do about them. They haven't done anything."

"It's not about what they have done, but what they're about to do. Stefan Keller is a FIRM double agent in the Stasi, or Ministry for State Security, and a good one at that, but he isn't the only mole in the system and too many of them have been found out - leaving him in a very precarious position."

"So you want us to get him out."

"Only if necessary. I have to let my hand play out and see if an extraction in required; if it is, I'll need it done quickly and quietly though."'

"With Airwolf," Saint John supplied.

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple."

"It never is," the younger Hawke commented, speaking for the first time since the meeting had begun.

"The Germans don't want us over there, and we don't want them over here for obvious reasons. Getting an agent as deep as Stefan isn't easy, and occasionally people have to die to make sure he can maintain his position without any suspicions of being a spy. We want to leave him over there, but if the circumstances don't permit it, I want everything possible done to bring him back alive. The Committee, however, seems to have formed an alliance to do anything they can against me."

"They want to leave him for dead?"

They want it to be his decision, and if he is found out it's up to him to make sure they don't get anything out of him."

"So what about this other one - Amira?"

"She has been working overseas for quite some time in foreign affairs and recruiting. Regrettably, there have been a few issues that have arisen as of late, questioning her recruiting."

"What? Lying to them and telling them all the benefits without bothering to tell them they won't even be able to tell their family where and when they're going, or even if they'll be back? That they may get assigned a suicide mission for causes they don't even believe in? No, I don't remember any of those when I joined the FIRM. No empty promises. No lies," String remarked sarcastically. "No-"

"I get it," Michael interrupted. "We have reasons to believe she has been recruiting anti-American terrorists, placing them into places of critical interest, and in the process not only threatening the foundation of the company, but also national security. The problem needs to be eliminated. Up for the jobs?" Michael asked hopefully.

"I can't leave very easily because I've been taking came of Ellie since she's been out of the hospital, and someone will still have to watch Le and Joshua."

"Cait hasn't been feeling well, so I'd rather not leave, especially since Chance just got over being sick - could be the came thing that nearly killed him. What about Rivers? Can't you send him and somebody?"

"Transferred," Michael and Saint John answered simultaneously.

"If I could get someone to pickup and drop off Joshua from school, maybe watch him until Le gets home I might be able to disappear for a day or two, three at the most," Saint John gave in.

The pleading look from Michael's one good eye shifted to the more stubborn younger brother.

Caitlin _probably didn't _have what Chance had, something very different actually, but still he didn't want to leave her alone, be he couldn't in good conscious take her with him either. But what if that was it? If she actually had caught what Chance had? He still remembered all too well how quickly his fever had spiked, how sick he'd been, the convulsing body in the backseat of the chopper beside him going suddenly limp and the feeling of dread that went threw him before he would cough and seize up again. What pain might he have saved his son if he had only been able to move past his own dislike of doctors sooner and gotten him the attention he deserved? He couldn't bear to risk putting Caitlin through the same thing, or worse… But Sinj would go, by himself if he had to, and there would be more people that would die if theses problems weren't taken care of.

"Two days," he finally said, "that's all I've got."

"Good. Now we've only got one problem - the Committee has cut all funding to the Airwolf project."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

**Patina's **

**7:45 pm**

"So what are we going to do?" The seemingly simple question hung between them in an awkward silence for several minutes.

"You said this- this job- for the FIRM is really important?"

Saint John nodded silently.

"Then you go. I have friends in town, surely one of them would be willing to drop off and pick up Josh for a couple days, and said Le usually walks or takes the bus anyway, right?"

"What about you?"

"I'll be alright. It's only a couple days, and I've got to start doing things on my own again sooner or later, it just so happens to be sooner."

"There is always the slim possibility that…"

"That you won't come back?" Ellie finished.

"Yeah."

"I know."

"And you're ok with that?"

"No," she admitted, "of course it's not ok with me, but what choice do I have? At the moment I'm pretty much dependent on you anyways, so I guess that just means you have to come back."

"That was my intention."

"Do you remember the conversation we had way back?"

"Which one? We've had a lot of conversations over the years."

"The one that actually involved an uninterrupted conversation," Ellie laughed, "about the future and what we were going to do."

"The circumstances are a little different now though, aren't they? And I know all the requirements haven't been met."

"Does that mean you don't want to?"

"I… no, Ellie, it's not that. I just…"

"Just what?"

"I was waiting for the perfect moment, trying to give myself time to figure out how to say this, and not pressure you. You did just get out of the hospital, and I know the whole deal with the living arrangements and things with Josh haven't been perfect. I though I had everything all figured out, but then… well, you know. Life happened and reality set back in. Maybe it was too much to ask for, but I was going to ask you to marry me."

"But you don't want to, don't thing it's good idea, anymore?" she concluded, trying to hide her disappointment. It had been a long time, and she couldn't expect him to wait for her forever. After all, she hadn't. Sure she missed him, but when he had gone MIA she figured it wasn't meant to be, so she mourned her loss and moved on with life. But when she found out Saint John Hawke, the man of her dreams, was still alive, her life was turned upside down. She questioned choices she hadn't even needed to think about before. She doubted how true her love to Arthur had been, whether or not marrying him had been a good idea or if she had just done it to replace the memories of Saint John. But it really was over. He too had moved on, only he hadn't come back around. It didn't matter anymore, he was a friend, but not _that kind _of friend.

"It's not so much I don't want to as I didn't know if you wanted to and if we could get past all the obstacle that lie ahead. We're always skirting around the issues, and there's a lot that would have to be worked out."

"I asked you if you loved me back in Da Nang, and you said you'd love me at home. If that still applies now that we finally are both home, and of course assuming you are actually proposing and I haven't lost my mind or imagined this, then yes I most certainly would marry you. The rest of things will just fall into place, even if we have to give some of them a bit of a nudge."

\A/

"You're not going alone," Caitlin O'Shaunessey Hawke said firmly, "you just aren't."

"Like I said, Sinj will probably come too; he just has to work out everything with Ellie Mae and the kids before he can."

"No probably. You two got picked up at the hangar not too long ago, and one of you came back shot when you returned. If that can happen in a few hours, who know what trouble you could get into in a couple days. I'll go with you."

"Cait."

"I am still able to do things for myself, and just because I'm not at a hundred percent doesn't mean I'm useless either."

"I never said you were."

"Then don't treat me like it. I don't want to lose you over something stupid."

"Not planning on leaving you. Besides, we aren't even positive we'll be going anywhere; this is just incase we do - so that if I disappear you don't worry."

"Not worry?" she smirked. "I worry about you every day."

\A/

"Your turn," Saint John said, relinquishing the controls as his brother took them.

"How much longer?"

"Couple hours until the next refuel, and a while after that. I don't know, at least six hours."

He sighed, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension that had settled there. "You know, it was pretty creative of Michael how he took care of funding this mission."

"But will it last?"

"Not like this. This mission alone pretty much drained the money that was left in the account so this is it unless he can somehow convince the Committee to bring it back."

"Do you even want them to?" Saint John queried.

"Doesn't much matter what I want. Technically the Lady is the FIRM's again since you're back; that's the deal I made."

"But do _you _want it to? If it did change things?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I wouldn't miss getting shot up on a regular basis, but I would the flying. It would be nice that the family could spend more time together, but Airwolf has been a good part of what brought us together, or at least back together, in the first place. It is what it is though, and I suppose none of us will be able to keep it up forever, just a matter of whether we have any say in when we quit or not. What about you?"

The older Hawke mutely shrugged his shoulders. "I was hoping you would be the voice of reason and shed some light on the subject. I don't even know the detail very well on how you ended up with such a beauty in the first place. There are plenty of times I don't know what I would have done without her, but at least as many times she has been the one getting us in trouble. I guess you're right though, it is what it is and we don't get much choice in the matter because I know sure couldn't afford to keep her wit Hough the FIRM's allowance. You're the one with the Strad and a couple dozen priceless paintings."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

"Yes, I'll meet you there," Amira ended and hung up the phone, ducking out of her office and heading down the hallway at a fast clip.

"Miss Bahadili," the security guard addressed.

She stopped cold in her tracks. "Yes?" she answered uncertainly, concealing a trace of concern in her voice.

"You heading out for the rest of the day?"

"Yes, probably. I should be back first thing in the morning though."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "See you bright and early then."

"Bright and early," she agreed without missing a beat. "'Night Taj."

Letting out a sigh of relief, she exited the building, clutching her briefcase tightly as she made her way down the street of the US installment toward the small café located near the entrance,

Why was she suddenly so shaky, all her training going out the window? She did this kind of thing on a regular basis, and this time would be no different.

She had scheduled herself for an early afternoon private flight to neighboring Iran to meet with Tahir and make her transaction. Dealing with Tahir was no easy task to arrange either, especially with her being a woman - someone he thought should hardly be seen much less heard from - but not even he could pass up on this deal.

\A/

Ellie Mae closed the book and laid it aside, smiling down at her six year old son. He was doing well, very well, considering what he had been though - his father murdered, then mother in the hospital for months in a coma then rehab, but how would she tell him the news? Would it be alright with him? He seemed fine with living with Saint John and Le here, and he had happily reaccepted her as a part of the household. Technically there wouldn't be very many more differences for him from the current arrangement, but it would still be yet another change in his seemingly growingly unstable childhood.

It probably wouldn't be anything. He always seemed intrigued by the idea of more siblings and he got along well with Le; she just hadn't been able to convince Arthur they needed more children.

Like she told Saint John, it'd all work out somehow. At the moment she wasn't sure exactly how, but somehow. She walked out of the bedroom, turning the light out on the way, and slowly made her way towards the master bedroom at the end of the hall.

The double sized bed was surrounded on all sides by clothes strewn about, boxes, and other clutter except for the narrow path Saint John had cleared for her.

She missed him already. Both brothers had left early that morning on some job for the FIRM, that was all she knew and told that was all she needed to know, but she couldn't help but wonder what trouble those boys could be getting themselves into. Slipping under the covers of the unfamiliar bed, she closed her eyes and let her mind wander.

_As an independent contractor for the United States Army she went where they needed her when they needed her. This particular time it had taken her a long flight away to a dense jungle on the other side of the world - the war torn country of Vietnam._

_She had seen plenty of good looking uniformed men, many of them really only boys of eighteen or nineteen. But there was one of them that had really caught her eye. She followed the thin, lanky, solemn, grimfaced youth of only seventeen as he crossed the room. He had a penetrating icy glare that dared anyone to cross him, a dare that few wanted to take him up on. As he came to a stop, swinging up onto the barstool and taking a long swig from the amber colored bottle of lukewarm swill that passed for beer in this place, she noticed an easily evident change in his appearance; the fine line his mouth had been set in turned into an almost happy smirk as he talked to the then first lieutenant. She knew that in wartime, especially on the battlefield, rank wasn't always observed in the same way, but even for leisure time she knew he must have known the higher ranker officer personally, and awfully well at that._

_It was almost an hour later before the two officers left, still joking about a close call and how many downed Hueys one had versus the other, but as they crossed by in front of her table she got a better look at the man that has so suddenly changed the attitude of the younger man, a quick glance at a face she wouldn't soon forget._

\A/

"Actually the cabin and just about everything in it is both of ours."

"I couldn't ever act on that though. You know that it is _really _yours just as much as I do."

String simply shrugged.

"Well I think you do anyway. Even with that, neither of us could afford her very long though."

"Running her wouldn't be that bad most of the time, arming her, on the other hand, would eat a hole in my pocket pretty fast."

"Committee wouldn't like that much either."

"The Committee doesn't like me. Never has."

"And I have a feeling you're planning to keep it that way, aren't you?"

"Depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Whether they want something or not. But no, at the moment we aren't on the best of terms; they're currently threatening everything from grand larceny to high treason if I don't return her."

"But you don't look concerned."

"What they'll threaten and what they'll do are two different things. Besides, even if they were to take me out of the picture, they wouldn't be any closer to having Airwolf in their possession."

\A/

Direct hit to the head - three of them. Stefan smiled to himself as he reloaded the Heckler & Koch USP. Now if only they were that easy when they were moving, he thought to himself. Moving targets would have to wait until tomorrow though - where he'd get the real thing. He had, it appeared, come to the end of his term in Germany and would be leaving early in the morning to go back to the US, maybe take a vacation, then on to his next assignment. But where would he go on vacation? He had already been to about every island in the Caribbean, to Hawaii, as well as Mexico, Alaska, Canada, Russia, Israel, France, Australia, and England. Maybe he could go exploring, he mused, try to discover something he already knew wasn't there, or maybe he'd just spend a couple days at his house on Laguna Beach and move on. Whatever he decided would have to wait until he was out of here and "just disappearing" wasn't going to be and easy job for anyone, that much was for sure.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

_Saint John Hawke," she said aloud. Interesting name, although it was nothing compared to that of his brother Stringfellow._

_She had stumbled into the officer the next day. Literally. But the meeting hadn't been all bad. She now had a name and made up an excuse that she had gotten lost and was trying to find her way back, actually not a complete lie, and they had hit it off from the start, him offering to walk her back since that was the direction he was heading anyway._

_Saint John, now she couldn't get the name out of mind. Before long she'd be dreaming about him at this rate, she thought, bad idea. Very bad, not because she had anyone special back home, but he might. Even if he didn't, this was war and a lot of people died, better not to get attached just in time to lose him._

"_Oh, Ellie, girl, what are you going to do?"_

_Go to lunch of course. Nothing formal, but she had been invited to join them at the bar around noon tomorrow and there was no way she was about to miss it._

The alarm clock she had set the previous evening went off, interrupting her peaceful dreaming, but she sleepily reached over to shut it off. Time to get up.

Groggily pulling her robe on over her nightgown and climbing out of bed, she shuffled into the kitchen. Undoubtedly the boys would want breakfast before school, so she figured she had better get busy. By the time she reached the kitchen though, she realized Le and Joshua were already well through their second bowls of cereal.

"Morning," Le greeted between bites.

"G'morning, Mommy," Joshua reiterated.

"Good morning. Looks like you two about have this down to an exact science."

Le simply shrugged. "We've had a little while to work on it."

A while, she though, yeah they'd had a while. A while she hadn't been in the picture, while she lay completely useless in the hospital.

"You need anything else before you go?"

"I think we've got it."

"Alright then, see you after school."

\A/

Tahir, flanked by his well armed driver and guardsman, alighted from the back of the vehicle as the other vehicle, which obviously hadn't spent near as much time in the desert, pulled down the dusty road, Amira Bahadili seated in the back.

"Salam, Miss Bahadili."

"Salam."

"I trust you are ready to deal as promised?"

"Of course. It should be arriving by the end of the week at the latest."

"This machine, aircraft, I should say, is mach capable, can carry a variety of munitions, _and _has surveillance and stealth capabilities?"

"Yes, and I believe it will not only meet your expectations, but far surpass them."

"That would be very difficult to do, Miss Bahadili," Tahir warned.

"With the right pilot, it can take on anything."

"Anything you say? Do you have any way to substantiate these claims?"

"It has already destroyed countless helicopters, a French Mirage, even an American destroyer. Armed, you could wipe entire cities, even small countries off the face of the earth. All for the right price, that is."

"Of course," Tahir agreed. "If it can do everything you say it can, it will be a most worthwhile investment. You do understand, however, that if I'm not pleased your country will be the first one to be erased though, right?"

"Perfectly sir."

"100 million it is then."

"It will be in Bai by Sunday," Amira assured him.

"Good. If you don't mind my asking, what do you call such a magnificent machine?"

"It has a variety of names, many can't form words, others only mutter strings of profanity, but this beauty is best known as Airwolf."

\A/

"Sounds like you, ever the optimist," Saint John remarked.

"And you're the idealist. Giving her back won't change anything. Zeus had no problem going after me, and personally I'm not so sure this new head of the FIRM would have any more qualms about it."

"So what are you going to do with her then? Can't exactly leave something like the Lady out in the open, but they'll eventually find her if you leave her in the lair, especially without Michael there to warn you about what they're doing all the time. And there sure isn't enough room for her at my apartment, and they already know their way around the cabin area pretty well."

"I'll figure out something. Until then, let's just worry about finishing this mission and trying to remain intact - I hear the medical benefits aren't so great when they didn't want you out here in the first place, and I know they sure as hell won't be giving _us _and _more money to fix up Airwolf."_

\A/

"We're coming up on Munich," Saint John reported. Stefan's estate is supposed to on the outskirts of the city - real big thing, about impossible to miss.

"Great," String muttered, "that means it'll probably be crawling with guards."

"He is Stasi, what did you expect?"

"I try not to expect anything, but I'd say this is looking so promising, especially considering this is only the first half of the mission."

Coming closer to the estate, String finally cut the turbos and came to a hover over the yard.

"Take a good look because this is what we get to break into tomorrow night."

"After some well deserved rest," Saint John added," now let's find somewhere to set down and get some shut eye."

"Yeah. I think we're going to need it."

\A/

"You come by it honestly at least, don't you?" Caitlin said as she watched the three and half year old play with the child sized helicopter. Chance had been around aircraft all his life, was nearly born in a helicopter, and rode in one on an almost daily basis, so why would it be any surprise? But still he showed an exceptional interest in them, particularly the helicopters, and that made her wonder. Even then, that didn't explain everything though. There was something more she couldn't seem to explain, yet was most definitely there all the same, kind of like Hawke's remarkable sense of hearing and gut feeling when something was about to go wrong. Not that she was complaining, but there was no doubt to her that this kid was indeed very much a young Stringfellow Hawke.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

**Saturday**

**9:44 pm **

**Germany**

Beyond the gated parameter ran a long stretch of grass leading up to a large estate, guards patrolling each gate and a wash of light flooding over the entrance to the house.

"Looks fun," Saint John remarked sarcastically.

"We could always change the plan and both go in."

"No, someone needs to stay with Airwolf, and when Stefan and I get out I want you to be there to pick us up."

The pilot nodded and continued to make his rounds. "German guards carrying AK-47s, don't appear to be any snipers, SAM launch sites at each corner of the house, and two more on the south end. Stefan is supposed to be back in his suite by 9:45 with no company, but he will have some a few minutes later, usually no later than 10pm, sometimes as early as 9:50.

"So I've got fifteen minutes to get in and get out with a five minute time window for him being alone. Alright, better head out then."

"I'll drop you off by the tree just outside the gate on the west side and pick you up when you radio or at the front door in fifteen at the latest."

"Got it, good luck, String."

"Keep the good luck, I've got the Lady to take care of me."

With booted feet, Saint John landed hard on the ground, M-16 slung over his shoulder, and sidearm tucked in the left side of his waistband, radio on the other. He immediately started climbing the tree, checked to make sure the coast was clear, and dropped inside from an overhanging limb. At a quick jog he approached the house, slipping past the guard and inside.

Hope nobody has decided to remodel any time recently, he thought to himself as he mentally pictured the blue prints of the house Michael had sent. Upstairs, the last room on the … "Damn," he muttered. Was it on the left side or the right?

It was upstairs at any rate, he though, taking the stairs two at a time, maybe once he got up there he'd remember. Hopefully.

Glancing down at his watch, he realized his narrow time window was quickly diminishing, and he now only had nine minutes he could count on.

Behind him he could hear many feet traipsing by, followed by the loud bark of a dog. Dogs, that was the last thing he needed at the moment.

The hall was unoccupied but far from empty, a rich red carpet lining the floor and golden trim at every turn, chandeliers evenly spaced across the ceiling and shedding far more light than would have been ideal at the moment. He reached the end of the hallway, left with the difficult choice - left or right? The front door where he was supposed to be picked up was closer to the left, so he decided to try the left, praying it was the right choice.

Gun drawn, he entered the room. It was empty, or at least appeared that way until he heard someone cock the gun that was now aligned with his head.

"Werden Sie hier drinnen," the German man ordered.

Not much chance at point blank, Saint John thought bleakly.

"Now! In, in, in!"

He stepped forward and had the door shut abruptly behind him.

"Erklären Sie Ihren Namen," he demanded.

Saint John remained silent, not that he had the slightest clue what the German man was saying anyway.

"Name," he repeated, this time in English.

"Hawke," Saint John answered.

"American?"

"Yes."

"Where from?"

"California," the pilot answered warily.

"Who sent you?"

Silence.

"Who sent you?" he repeated impatiently. "Tell me now or I'll take care of your sudden inability to speak for good."

"I can't tell you."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked one last time, finger looming dangerously close to the trigger of the_ American_ revolver.

"You're Stefan Keller, aren't you?"

"And who told you? Never mind, it doesn't matter, but for your information, yes I am."

Saint John ducked, catching Keller behind the heel just as he fired. The bullet embedded itself in the wall hardly an inch from Saint John's head as he dropped the German agent to the ground and disarmed him. Keller smiled. "Good. I'm glad to see the FIRM still trains its agents as well."

"You're… You mean that was just as test to figure out if I was well trained?"

"Yes," the agent answered. "More or less."

"Well now that we've established they do," Saint John said, giving him a hand up, "I'm not FIRM trained, and we only have six minutes to get out of here."

"But if you're not…."

"Long story, I'll explain later. At the moment let's worry about getting you out of here."

He handed the revolved back and picked up a long, dark colored trench coat and handed it to Keller. "How far from that window to the ground?"

"About ten feet to the balcony and another fifteen to the grass from it."

"It'll due."

He pried the window open and motioned toward the large square tiled porch below, gesturing towards the significant drop. "Only ten feet, huh?"

"_About _ten," Keller reminded.

"Let's move."

Hanging from the window still and dropping down the remaining four feet, Saint John hit the tile, rolling to absorb some of the impact, followed by Keller. Before they could jump to the ground below, one step closer to safety, both of the found themselves looking down the barrel of a gun.

"Do you think you're going somewhere?" the guard asked mockingly.

As if synchronized, Saint John and Stefan attacked the guards, but the watchmen proved to be a fair match, each blow they received returned with an equally strong one. Rolling to the left, Saint John avoided the rubber sole coming down at his head, drawing his gun as he did so and taking down the man with one shot. Stefan ducked a punch, landing a hard fisted blow to the jaw of his enemy and grabbing him by the neck as he doubled over in pain and broke it.

From overhead, Airwolf's banshee cry could be heard as she circled and came to hover mere feet from the ground and let loose a barrage of gunfire.

The remaining guardsmen fired back, magazine after magazine ricocheted harmlessly off the armored black hide. Another wave of fire followed by a large canon plowed across the ground and the guard tower from where two more bodies came flying toward the ground.

"What is that?"

"Our ticket out of here, now let's get gone." Saint John called out, already a step ahead, letting off a couple shots behind him and plunging onward into the cloud of smoke.

From the inside of the cockpit, String targeted another guard tower and released the Wolf's fury on it. At last he saw his brother and the German agent coming toward the helicopters. Relief flooded through him until another spat of gunfire erupted, piling into the sand around them as a cloud of dust arose up, hiding them from view.

Stefan reappeared a moment later, climbing into the back of the cockpit. Alone.

"Where's my brother? Where's Saint John?"

Stefan shook his head, still coughing from inhaling so much smoke. "I don't know," he choked. "He was right beside me… then he just disappeared."


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

"Have you heard anything from Saint John or String?" Ellie asked hopefully.

Caitlin shook her head and returned to sipping her cappuccino. "Don't usually, and even if someone had radioed the cabin I probably wouldn't have heard it over Chance this morning. He's been fussy the last couple hours, and I have no clue why." Ok, maybe she did have an idea, but it wouldn't make Ellie feel and better knowing that often when Chance got really fussy while someone, String specifically, was on a mission something had gone wrong or was about to go wrong. She could only hope that wasn't the case this time.

\A/

"You've got to get us out of here," Stefan insisted.

"Like hell I will, that my brother and I'm **not **leaving him."

"You are going to get us both killed, he's probably dead by now anyway, sad but true."

The pilot banked a hard right turn, and for a minute Keller thought he had regained control over his emotions. That was until he landed almost a mile out. Making sure the .45 was loaded and grabbing another clip of ammo, he slipped out of the cockpit, taking a portable radio and automatic rifle gun with him.

"Where are you going?" Stefan Keller asked incredulously." You can't just leave this-"

"I'm not. You're staying here. Guard her with your life because if the enemy gets a hold of her you won't have a life to worry about."

"But you, where…. Why?"

"I told you, I'm going to get my brother."

"That was heavy artillery fire, if he didn't come on his own, chances are he's not going to come at all."

"Then I'm bringing his body back; I can't leave him again." He shut the hatch behind him and immediately set off at a brisk lope toward the place they had just vacated.

\A/

"What do you mean got away?" Eckhard demanded.

"The helicopter, sir, it left with Stefan Keller inside. All the fallen guards in the field appear dead, but the doctors are making their rounds as we speak."

"Fine. Inform me if anyone is found alive; in the meantime I've got a helicopter to take down."

\A/

Raising a shaky bloody hand, Saint John wiped the sweat from his brow, blinking blearily as he tried to assimilate what was going on.

Voices, many of them speaking in an unfamiliar language he couldn't understand, sounded German. German, yes, he was supposed to be rescuing some German undercover agent for Michael, he remembered, starting to put the pieces back together.

Slowly opening his eyes, he braved the world around him. Soldiers of some kind were leaning over a fallen body hopefully searching for a pulse, they weren't going to be quite so hopeful when they got to him though, he thought darkly. He had to get out of here, somehow.

Oh, at the moment what he wouldn't do for a good dose of some morphine! Surely there was some in Airwolf's well stocked first aid kit, if he could get to Airwolf. Despite the fact the images before him swam in a muddle less distinct than Chance's watercolor, he was nearly positive the Lady was nowhere nearby. He'd have to aim for something else at the moment - maybe the ditch up ahead by about a hundred yards.

His right hand was red and blood covered, coating anything he touched in a sticky veneer, his left not much better; his legs were rendered useless for walking at the moment, agonizingly painful when he was still, and moving… he wasn't sure it was even possible. Still, he had to try. Digging his right elbow into the ground, followed by the left, he slowly squirmed away from the spot, having to rest every few feet to catch his breath.

Was this such a great alternative to ending up with a bullet through his head? he thought, his odds of making it out alive were slim and growing slimmer by the minute, and chances of coming out in one piece were obviously none considering his current condition, virtually his only hope being that someone would find him before the German soldiers did.

String - had he made it out alive or was he currently facing a similar fate to the one he was enduring? He had Airwolf on his side though, that alone should increase his chances. Would he come back for him if he got the chance? No question there, he knew; String would do all that he could to make sure he came out of this alive, but he still had to finish the mission and at the moment getting Keller to safety was more important politically and as far as national security was concerned than his life was, so he'd have to settle for second and hope that was good enough.

Inching forward another foot, he stopped, panting for breath. He could hear feet pounding towards him, running toward him, but laid motionless, unable to summon the strength to move forward even an inch more. Darkness clawed at him, threatening to drag him under, stealing his breath and ebbing away his strength.

The booted feet came closer.

He couldn't find the might to even lift his head though and fell face down in the mud, blissful unconsciousness overtaking him.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Slipping up behind the first man, he slammed the butt of the .45 into the back of his skull, lowering him quietly to the ground then sneaking up on the second one, also rendering him unconscious.

Carefully stepping over the bodies that littered the field, he made his way to his brother.

"Sinj," he said, approaching the motionless man. "Saint John." Rolling him over to his back, he was relieved to find a fairly steady pulse despite the fact he looked quite a bit worse for wear. "Just unconscious," he mumbled to himself, realizing that was probably for the better. "Come on, let's get you some help." With no other way of transporting him, he positioned him over his shoulder, praying he didn't have any back or neck injuries he was only going to worsen.

The trip back to Airwolf was longer and more difficult with the extra two hundred some pounds of dead weight draped over his shoulder, but he made good time and was well over half way by the time Saint John regained consciousness.

"Agh!" he cried out in pain as his escort stumbled over a rough spot in the terrain but continued on.

Stop for a minute will ya?" he groaned.

"It's not gonna get any better, and I highly doubt you want me to have to sling you back up there now that you're conscious."

"String?" he murmured, still only half way with it.

"Yeah."

"How… how much further?"

" 'Bout a quarter of a mile to the Lady, then we'll get you cleaned up and see how bad it is."

"Let me walk, I've got a feeling I've been up here a while already," he grimaced as his weight shifted ever so slightly to the left again, "and I know you've got to be tired."

"Isn't a matter of being tired, and you aren't walking anywhere, at the moment I'm not so sure you'd make it any more than about two feet _with _my help. And if you remember, this is only part one."

Oh yeah, he thought, suppressing a groan. They still had to take care of that Iraqi agent, and with the shortage of funds and time, long hospital stays and extra stops weren't very easily allotted for. "Alright, fine, but do take a break for a minute; we can worry about getting back to Airwolf after that."

"It might not be quite a quarter mile left, besides I can't afford the time. If our German friends saw Airwolf, which they no doubt did, they'll have someone out here to shoot us down or take us captive just about any time now and I'd feel a lot safer inside the cockpit when they do."

\A/

"MiG two to leader, I've got a visual on the helicopter, engaging target."

"You got the go, blow them out of the sky."

Actually they weren't even in the sky at the moment, but who was he to complain about his job being easier? "Loading an ASM now, locking on…."

\A/

"Almost there, and I think we've got company."

Traversing the final few yards, String little more than dropped Saint John just inside, closing the door and running around to the other side.

By the time he climbed inside and pulled on the helmet, Saint John had started the engines and they were nearly ready for liftoff.

"Missile inbound," Saint John reported, "impact in six seconds. Five….four… three….two…."

He lifted off and sent them skyward, barely being missing by the missiles imploding violently into the ground.

"What are we up against?"

A pair of MiG's," Saint John answered, "and just to warn you, I'm already fighting a losing battle with consciousness."

"I got it, just don't flake out on me and I'll take care of the rest."

"Yeah, no problem," he said sarcastically. MiG coming in at six o'clock from angels ten."

"Deploy a sunburst when it's four seconds out then give me full turbos."

The missile took the decoy and they climbed quickly to twelve thousand feet, ascending higher, then looping around and coming up behind the wingman.

"Copperhead," he requested, snapping down the visor.

"He's out," Stefan warned.

"Then you load one; it's the first button on the first row, bottom right panel."

"Copperhead," Stefan confirmed, punching the button.

The MiG exploded in front of them, fragments of the burning frame falling lifelessly to the ground below. One down, one to go.

\A/

"Leader to base, they've taken out my wingman, repeat, I'm flying solo. Wait a minute… I've got them, target locked."

He pressed the trigger and a volley of fire ran along the sides of the sleek black helicopters in front of him, ricocheting off harmlessly.

"Don't like that? We'll play with the big guns then." Loading an AA-12 Adder, he targeted the speeding modified Bell 222 and fired.

The rocket gained on them, quickly eating up the distance between the two aircraft until the other pilot reengaged the turbos and shot off once again, slightly further ahead of the missile. It couldn't loose it though, steadily loosing its advantage. A wide grin spread across his face as the inescapable missile inched closer and closer. That grin was quickly wiped off though when the aircraft in front of him released chaff flare which the missile mistaking took as the target and exploded mid-air directly on front of him and shaking his ship hap hazardously. Before he even had a chance to stabilize it, a Redeye was on his six and he felt the sickening drop of his stomach when he realized there was no way to avoid it. It crashed into the aircraft, sending it up into a single flaming fireball of wreckage and shrapnel fueled by hundreds of pounds of jet fuel with suddenly nowhere to go as it slowly fell to the waiting earth below.

\A/

Hovering just above the carrier deck, landing gear up, the sleek helicopter pivoted on its own axis into the wind and took off again towards Iraq.

"Enjoy your carrier stay?"

"Better than camping out in the middle of nowhere," Saint John admitted, "but I see why I didn't join the Navy."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad, and at least there were some real medical facilities, that's more than you would have gotten most places we could've camped. My kinds of place too - get in, get patched, get out."

"Not that bad? How would you know? All you did was sleep the entire time."

"We only spent a day there," the younger pilot countered, "and I doubt you really did a whole more."

"I was in sick bay, remember? Just be glad they let me go so you don't have to fly alone."

"Yeah, you were a lot of help last time, having to drag you a good mile just so you get your neck broke or hauled in for interrogation."

"And to get Keller out," he reminded.

'I guess that does count for something," String conceded, tossing him a teasing look. "You know I wouldn't really leave ya, but the doc approving your discharge did make this a little easier than having to hijack the carrier."

"Not to mention the brig time you'd get for it."

"Nah, they'd probably just throw me overboard and feed me to the sharks."

"Doesn't sound too bad to me. Too bad they have me trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey or I might be tempted to try that one myself."

"Ha ha, very funny. 'Course you know that if I'm going over, you're coming with me."


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

**7:25 am**

**Saint John's Apartment**

"In the car, in the car," Caitlin herded the two children out the door then turned back to Ellie Mae, "you're sure he's alright?"

She nodded. "You're just taking them to school and going to an appointment, I can handle it."

"Alright, better get going then." She closed the door behind her and walked back to the car where Le and Joshua were finally waiting on her, still feeling strange about the whole thing. String had asked her to check up on Ellie whenever she could if she was up to it, and instead she was farming off her three year old to a woman who just got out of the hospital. She'd just have to be quick, she decided, take the kids to school, take care of her appointment as fast as possible, and get back to relieve Ellie. Maybe afterward she could make it up to her by taking her to out to lunch or at least fix something and see if there was anything else she needed.

"Come on, Aunt Cait, we're gonna be late," Joshua complained.

"Ok, ok, we're going." She started the engine and shifted into drive, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

\A/

"Ok, maybe we should avoid throwing each other out, at least until we take care of our problem agent in Iraq."

"True. Besides, I don't think the Lady can quite fly herself, and Michael might be a bit mad if we dunked her in the ocean just because decided to drown each other."

"You'd be surprised, but he would be more than a little mad, plus we'd still have a rogue agent over there doing who knows what."

"Uh-oh, looks like Michael must've heard us talking, he's on the com link now."

"Put him through."

"Good morning Airwolf crew," Michael greeted.

"Evening."

"There at least. I got report that you successful extracted Stefan Keller, mostly successfully anyway."

"Successful all except they near blew my brother up. I don't take kindly to that, and I'll warn you now that it wasn't anything close to a nice quiet extraction."

"What's done is done. I'll see what I can do to clean it up. What about the Iraqi agent?"

"On our way now, anything new we should know?"

"She's not actually currently staying in Iraq; she flew to Iran a couple days ago for a meeting with Tahir, who is a suspected terrorist with rather anti-American motives. Since then she has returned to the office but has a private flight scheduled later in the week, most likely back to Iran."

"Any idea what this meeting was about?"

"Recon wasn't able to get close enough to pick up anything definite."

"Would it kill you to make things easy for me? Just once?"

"Sorry, that's all I've got."

"Fine, tell Cait we should be home hopefully tomorrow or the day after, might want to say something to Ellie about Saint John too."

"I'll try not to worry them too much," Michael vowed.

"And we're going to hold you to that. Will report back later, Airwolf out."

\A/

"You can lock up everything tonight," Amira Bahadili told the security guard, "I'm done for the day."

"Will you be in tomorrow?" he queried. He knew it would be Friday, and therefore not necessary for her to come in, but Amira was hardworking and typically preferred to keep more to herself, making Friday a perfect opportunity.

"Not this week. I'm going to see if I can get some things done at home and take a few days off."

Taj nodded and opened the door for her, "have a good weekend then."

"You too, Taj."

Pausing briefly as she stepped outside, Amira took a careful look at her surroundings and wondered of she'd be back. Too late for second thoughts now, she was in it now, like it or not.

Her driver pulled up promptly in front of the building in a dark colored soft top jeep and waited patiently for her to climb in.

"Ready?"

She let out a deep breath then looked back to her driver appointed by Tahir, "ready as I'll ever be."

She had the perfect complexion and knowledge of the culture for the assignment; she had the clearance and ability, and had worked damned hard enough to get it, but for the last year, different as it was, Iraq had been her home, and now she was about to throw it all away. It wasn't pointlessly waiting her years of training and labor, but she wouldn't be returning here either, that much was for sure; she couldn't. Her name, her face, she would be far too well known by the time this was over, just hopefully as a hero and not a treasonous rogue agent.

Airwolf, her own proud proclamation, was a voice that haunted her. In all actuality she had seen it only twice, one of those times she wasn't even positive it was her, but she'd read the mission reports; she'd seen her in action, on tape anyway. She knew the beauty and majesty, destruction and havoc that "the Lady" could cause. She also knew the potential death and ruin that could occur with her in the wrong hands. Stringfellow Hawke might not be the ideal company man that the FIRM wanted in control of her, but he was just as trustworthy and honest as any of them, if not more so, and he was definitely one hell of a lot better pilot than most of them could even dream of being. He was as close to perfect as they were going to get. Now she could only hope that her plan was just as perfect.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

**Agha Jari, Iran**

**3:58 pm**

"Stop here," Amira instructed the driver. "I need to talk to someone inside for a minute; I'll be right back out."

The driver nodded briefly in acknowledgment and shifted into park outside a rundown shack that doubled as a bar and town meeting center.

"Please get here," she mumbled under her breath as she slipped toward the back of the room. She had been so sure that when the FIRM found out she was dealing with Tahir they'd send someone who could get in, get her, and get out unnoticed. Airwolf fell perfectly into that category, but so far was still a no show. How was she supposed to deal with no product? She couldn't. The only thing trying to do that would succeed in would be making her the next candidate to be hung.

"What do I do? What do I do?" If she didn't show, she could kiss all chances of this working goodbye, and most likely her life too unless she could manage to stage her own death convincingly and defect to somewhere like Antarctica. If she came without the promised prize… she'd really rather not think of what Tahir would do to her.

\A/

"Last known location of Amira Bahadili was near Agha Jari. You want to start looking there?"

"Sounds like as good a place to start as any?"

"Take a heading due east then; it's a little forgotten town only a couple miles away."

"This it?" String asked as they passed over a cluster of rustic looking buildings with a few tents just outside what was supposedly a city."

"Yep, that's it."

"Surprised it's even on the map."

"Wouldn't figure this to be a big meeting place, but then again, maybe that's why she chose here."

\A/

Sipping lukewarm swill and biding for time, she couldn't help but think that maybe it'd be for the best if she just drank herself to death, not like the bar tender would give her that much anyway, nor did she have enough time to down that much watered down alcohol, not to mention the stomach for it, and she was accustomed to some pretty rancid things. Suddenly overhead a helicopter could be heard, far off, yet still a bit unusual for this tiny town. Her hopes soared. Maybe miracles did happen. Leaving her tab and half empty drink on the bar, she disappeared out the back way in search of the miracle helicopter.

The large, sleek beauty was resting not far away, the long graceful rotor still slowing to a stop as two men in matching grey flight suits climbed out from each side. She ran toward them, forgetting all her previous training and soon finding herself facing the muzzle of a Colt .45.

"I… I'm sorry…" she stammered. "This is… I'm…uh…"

"Who are you and what do you want?" the older Hawke demanded gruffly.

"Amira Bahadili, uh Andrea Benally … This helicopter, it's Airwolf, isn't it?" she asked, suddenly afraid she had made some terrible mistake. She'd already told them her real name, something she shouldn't have even though about doing. Think, she remembered, maybe too late, she had to think. Even if these were the right ones, there was already plenty that needed to be cleared up.

"What makes you think it is?" Saint John answered with his own question."

"Michael, Archangel, do you know him? Zeus? Kara? Any of them?"

"Yeah."

"I work for them, the FIRM, used to even have a little security clearance card to prove it, but I'm afraid I left it back in California, for safety reasons."

"Sounds like enough of an identification to me," String whispered under his breath.

"I agree." Seizing the unsuspecting agent by the wrists, and pinning them behind her back, Saint John instructed her to move toward the helicopter as he produced handcuffs and proceeded to shackle her hands behind her back.

"Wait," she corrected herself after shouting something in Farsi, "please. Sorry, force of habit considering I have been here for the last thirteen months. I could get out of those handcuffs about as fast as you can put them on, but I want to be on your side."

"Lady, we're picking you up because you're suspected of high treason, kind of makes me wonder why you'd suddenly decide you want to be pro-American again after trying to see us out to Iranian terrorists. "

"No, I'm not. That's what I'm trying to explain. I apologize for having to do it this way, but when I found out about Tahir, I could only come up with one way to catch him."

"By betraying your country? Yeah, sounds like a brilliant plan to me to."

"No, I was going to sell him Airwolf, but not really. I knew the FIRM wouldn't ever agree to such a risky proposition so I pretended to be going to sell one of the US's most valuable assets to its enemies, knowing that they'd have to send someone to get me out - someone quick and quiet. Airwolf was the only real possibility."

"They could have just ordered a hit."

"Could have, but they wouldn't. That would leave too much room for error. Once Airwolf was in country, I figured if I could just convince them to help me, I could prove my innocence or treason and we could catch a terrorist."

"To the helicopter," Hawke ordered.

"Please listen to me, if nothing else for your own sakes and for that of your country's."

"We'll think about it, right now get in the back of the helicopter."

She followed orders, knowing that being difficult would only lessen her chances of being able to convince them she was telling the truth and to go along with her. In other words, she had about an hour to win their trust and cooperation, or else her home country could very likely become the next target of a notably well supplied Iranian terrorist.

\A/

"Sir, you have a long range radio link from Hawke," Samantha told him.

"Something gone wrong? Have they picked up Amira yet?"

"I couldn't say sir. He said he wanted to speak with you."

It was Hawke, he reminded himself, undoubtedly Stringfellow, known for his lack of tact and diplomacy, and just as known for getting the job done if occasionally somewhat unorthodox.

"Alright, put him through," he told his assistant.

"Michael," Hawke requested, I need you to do a background check on your agent, Amira what's her name."

"Anything specific?"

"Enough to know her style."

"Her style _was _finish the mission, same as with any other agent."

"You know what I mean, Michael, mission reports. I need to know how she thinks - tactics, plans, what's worked and what hasn't - everything."

"Kind of pushing your clearance, aren't you? Especially consider ding you aren't even _supposed _to be on this mission?"

"Well you still sent me on it, and if you don't have the ability to give me pertinent information, then I don't have the ability to bring her in."

"I'll see what I can find," Michael said adumbratively. "Until then, is it within your capabilities to tell me how things are going currently?"

" 'Fraid not," he answered with such a smug tone Michael could almost see the smirk on his face, "have some things we need to take care of while waiting on those reports. Airwolf out."

"Wait-" Michael started, but he was already gone.

Sighing as he dropped back into his white leather chair, he called for Samantha to rejoin him.

"Sir?"

"Get me everything you can find on Andrea Benally and all her undercover ops."


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

"So?" Saint John queried, repositioning himself into a more comfortable position against the winglet.

"I think she's telling the truth."

"And how do you come to that conclusion, because from what I overheard it sure wasn't a sudden change of heart from Michael."

"The reports I requested."

"More like demanded and blackmailed for."

"Whatever. She has been known to bend orders and stretch the limits before, making it plausible for her to come up with a plan to get us here then try to convince us to help her. Besides, if she really was a traitor and anywhere near as good of an agent as she claims, she would have at least attempted to steal Airwolf by now."

"And I'm sure that has nothing to do with the fact she's trussed up tighter than a Thanksgiving Day turkey."

"It doesn't if she can get the handcuffs off faster than you can put them on."

"You think she can though?"

"One way to find out."

"You're the one in charge," Saint John said almost mockingly.

"Amira," String called, opening the co-pilot side door, "if you are who you say you are, get out here."

She obeyed, climbing out from the back jump seat with amazing grace considering the restraints she was in, and stepped out before them.

"You said you could get out of all that garb, prove it."

Hardly having to have to think, she sat down and stepped through her locked together wrists and reached for a hidden master key, unlocking the handcuffs and proceeding to use the key to cut off any remaining bonds. "That was the easiest way," she told her audience, "one of many ways though."

"Fine. You pass the test, don't betray that trust."

Tahir is expecting me to deliver Airwolf to him this afternoon in town in about forty five minutes. He will, undoubtedly want to inspect the aircraft and instruments then he should pay me and it would be his to do with as he pleases. My plan, simple as it is, I think will work. Let me fly it in like he expects, show it to him, but have one of you hiding in the back; when he comes to examine it, you take him."

"You said one of us, what do you expect the other one to be doing?"

"Well I sure as hell can't fly a helicopter, much less this thing, and somebody has to."

\A/

**Agha Jari, Iran**

**4:10 pm **

Tahir, dressed in the inconspicuous local attire of long pants and a loose button down shirt, stepped out of a rundown building that was little more than aligned rows of wood with a caving roof on top. Two dark robe clad men followed him, each armed with an AK-47.

All three around the back of the building where the sleek black helicopter had just landed, long rotor blades still circling as Amira removed her helmet and climbed out of the pilot's side.

"Salaam," she greeted.

"Salaam," he replied. "I see you have brought the helicopter."

"As promised," she answered, never missing a beat.

"Good. Here is the agreed upon money," he said, signaling one of his men to come forward and give her the black moneybags. "My men will air lift it out of here tonight and take it back to my camp."

"You're not even going to check over the instruments or take it for a test flight?" she tasked, trying to hide her surprise and disappointment.

"You flew it in here so I trust it must be in fairly good working order. Is that trust not well founded?"

"No, no, everything is fine. It's just that most of my clients insist on a thorough inspection before I leave."

You assured me I wouldn't be disappointed, if I am you can be confident I will find you."

"I understand. Good doing business with you then."

"And the same to you."

\A/

"What is she doing?"

"I'll be damned if I know, but I personally don't remember her walking off and leaving us being part of the plan."

"And I though this Tahir guy was supposed to be checking out the instruments. Doesn't look too interested to me considering he just dropped a hundred million dollars."

"My thoughts exactly. Think she was playing us the whole time?"

"I'm beginning to wonder."

"And one of us has to find out; you stay here and I'll follow, see if I can give us some insight into what's going on."

Saint John agreed, reluctant to leave String without any immediate backup, but also knowing he wasn't currently in any condition to be going with him, feeling worse if anything, and somebody had to stay with the Lady.

'You gonna be ok?"

"Yeah," he lied, "only I can now do a perfect impression of Swiss cheese."

"And you're doing an amazing job of convincing me you really are fine," String said sarcastically.

"Go on. The sooner we get this over with the soon we can go home."

\A/

Armed with only a radio and standard issue M1911A, Hawke started off across the deserted sandy expanse toward the ghost town they had come across only earlier that afternoon.

Fifteen minutes later, a very bored Saint John received a message from Amira. "Amira to Airwolf, Tahir is coming back with **very **well armed helos. Be on the lookout."

Saint John acknowledged the message and immediately went to pass it on to his brother as he started the engines and brought the systems online.

"String, Amira says Tahir is on his way back with some armed helos, head back. We'll have to take them in the air."

"Armed hell. These are more than just mean gunships. You're on your own, I'd never make it back."

"What are you doing then?"

"Don't know yet, I'll let you know when I figure it out, Hawke out."

Even then Saint John could see a host of Mi-24's and a Panha Shabviz 2061 coming in over the horizon. Never make it back was right, he realized darkly. It was going to be pretty near impossible for him as it was and he had the Lady on his side. What did that say for String's chances though?


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Unceremoniously dumping the unconscious pilot out and sliding into the cockpit of the oversized Russian made helicopter, he pulled the cumbersome helmet on, only wishing he could have had the bulky phantom grey one he had in Airwolf. After finding out about the precautions it had against flash blindness he had vowed never to complain about it again, compared to this awkward thing though, it was just about perfect.

Reaching for the controls, he went to start the helicopter, only now remembering nothing was in English. Why couldn't it be in English? Heck, Spanish even? Why did he have to be stuck with Russian?

There wasn't much choice now though. He was a chopper pilot, and he like to think he was a pretty good one. Granted, he had never flown any copter as large or unfamiliar as a Russian Hind, but there was a first time for everything, right?

Judging more off the feel of the 'copter and what similarities it did have than readable instruments, he, after what seemed like an eternity, managed to get the gigantic bird into the air, still learning at the controls as he went. All he had to do now was catch up, catch a terrorist, pick up an agent he wasn't sure whose side she was on, an avoid getting shot down by his own brother. Ah, nothing like small goals was there?

\A/

**6:45pm**

**Saint John's Apartment**

"This is really good," Ellie praised, "but you didn't have to. I don't mind watching Chance for you, actually kind of enjoyed the company."

"Thanks again, but I really didn't mean for you to have to watch him all day. It was only supposed to take an hour or two."

"No big deal. The neighbor had problem picking up Le and Joshua, and…" she paused to take another bite of mashed potatoes, "and like I said, it was kinda fun."

"Still, I should have at least found a way to call and get you the message."

"I don't blame you, now let's change the subject."

"Ok, what do you want to talk about?"

"Want Daddy!" Chance suddenly started wailing as he woke up from his nap, throwing off the blanket he had been curled up under as if were trying to ensnare him.

"How about that?" she asked as the child climbed into his mother's lap. "I've seen him do things like that before, but never been able to figure out why."

"I don't know exactly," Caitlin answered truthfully. "He and String have a special connection, and more than they just look alike. They know when each other are in trouble or something major has happened. I have no clue why, but it's pretty much always been there since he was born. Maybe he can explain it better when he gets older, but then again, maybe it's none of my business. I don't find out much of what String sees in his nightmares and I've never thought too much about what happens in his. It is a bit disconcerting how there dreams often coincide or happen at the same time though, or when he in gone and Chance starts fussing like that, but I guess like anything else you just have to learn to live with it and hope it isn't anything too bad."

\A/

"Sinj, Saint John, it's String. Do you read?"

"I copy," Saint John answered, "loud but not so clear."

"Sorry, learning to fly still. Listen, try not to shoot down the Hind coming straight in from way over the horizon at the moment, it's me. If I can figure out where they are, I'll turn on the landing lights or something, but until try not to kill me."

"You flying a Hind? Did I get that right?"

"Yeah, if you can't beat 'em, join them, or at least look like it, that's my philosophy for the moment."

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks, now maybe I can see what havoc once of these monsters can do from the pilot's point of view. I know there is plenty of ammo to launch once I find it…. Got it. Yeah, now we're really in business."

\A/

Well, he may not have an engineer or co-pilot, and he definitely wasn't at the top of his game, but at least he wasn't having to learn to fly something new while in combat. It could always be worse, he though to himself as the Mi-24's in front of him line up for attack, but not that much worse.

Engaging full combat mode, Saint John Hawke flew into the fray, knowing there was no point in even attempting to run now; he was in it to the death.

He had hardly come any closer when the forward most Hind fired two radar seeking missiles in his direction, the first one not even coming close enough to acquire its target. He wasn't as lucky with the second though. The second missile continued closing fast, greedily eating up the distance between it and US's finest like it were mere inches instead of hundreds of years. Saint John deployed chaff, hoping and praying it would take the decoy before it was too late.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

_The dark wolf snarled, challenging anyone willing to face her, arrogance and confidence were evident in her body language, but it wasn't unwarranted. She had taken down plenty on her own and was far from ready to give up her acclaimed power. _

_What she hadn't been expecting though was the returning howl of a pack of wolves answering her challenge. The new coming pack consisted of grey wolves, a little battle wounded, but obviously not lacking in courage or strength._

_The leader of the pack stepped forward fearlessly, challenging the she wolf's authority, insulting her power; she refused to back off however, boldly marching up to meet the other nose to nose._

_The scarred grey wolf snarled menacingly, striking out and pouncing on the dark she wolf, pawing and biting at her neck as the remainder of the pack moved in for the kill._

_The black wolf fought back valiantly, throwing the first attacker off without too much problem, but found it more difficult when two more pounced onto her back. One by one, the rest of the greys joined the fight against the lone wolf, suffocating and crushing her despite her vain attempts to regain the advantage._

\A/

The missile took the decoy and exploded beneath him, orange flames licking at the white underbelly. Saint John hit the turbos, giving him the momentary advantage and enough speed to widen the gap between him and the Mi-24's to turn around and launch his own return fire. Lowering the visor on the helmet, the auto targeting box appearing, and he made short work of two Hinds.

"Three more and the Panha Shabviz to go," he murmured aloud as the remaining three Hinds closed in.

Each fired two missiles in perfect synchronization, forming an inescapable barrage of fire.

Banking a tight left turn, he changed direction, using full turbos as he raised radar suppression and attempted to scramble the missiles. Two locked onto each other and ended in a mid-air collision, but that still left him four to try to shake, four missiles that were constantly gaining on him. Rounding a sand dune, he realized only two of the missiles were on his tail, but there hadn't been any explosions.

"Dammit, where'd they go?" If they hadn't hit the dune, and obviously missed him, they still had to be around here somewhere, and that was something he'd much rather not run into.

"Ok, your turn," String's voice sounded over the radio. "I got two of them off your back, now get this one off mine, and hurry."

Directly in front of him came a Russian Hind moving faster than he'd ever seen before and kicking up an enormous dust cloud, missile tailing not far behind.

"You're trying to get yourself killed aren't you?" he said aloud, more to himself than anyone else. He hit the turbos and raced between the other helicopter and the missile and picked up the tail, chaff taking it out for good.

"Thanks. I think I've finally managed to figure this thing out, but there aren't any turbos. What fun is that?" he joked.

"I don't know, looked to me like you were getting it on pretty quickly."

"Wanna trade?"

"Not in a million years," Saint John answered back.

"Hey Sinj, watch out," String warned, turning the subject back to a more serious matter as a strafing line of fire covered the ground directly behind Airwolf, followed by another one, this time much closer.

\A/

_Paws now dripping with blood, some her own, some not, the dark she wolf rose up onto blood-matted haunches, baring sticky fangs as she limped back a step, only to spring back up and attack again, snapping at her challengers until she once again got buried beneath a mountain of furry bodies, each of them showing their fair share of wounds._

_She was lost in a tangle of writhing and wriggling bodies until a single shrill yelp broke through the constant yelping and whining that had previously filled the darkening evening sky. Then all was quiet and the dark night turned suddenly deathly quiet as one by one the pack of grey wolves dispersed, leaving the wounded loner on the ground, unmoving._

\A/

"Who's the idiot flying number five?" Tahir demanded. "He's getting in the way more than he's helping and my patience is running thin."

"It should be Georgy Lezarev," his co-pilot answered, "supposedly one of the best in the Russian mafia."

"If that's all mother Russia has to offer, they need to consider importing a few people that actually know what they're doing.

"I've flown with him before, and this doesn't seem quite his style."

"Are you defending him now?"

"No sir, I'm just saying something isn't quite right."

"That much is for sure. Now I suggest you start doing something about it!"

"This is Alpha leader to number five, what's going on over there?"

No response.

"Number five, is there a problem there?'

Still nothing.

"I can't get anything, sir."

"Don't you think I can hear that?! I am sitting right beside you still in case you haven't noticed."

"Sorry sir."

"Move in.'

"Sir?"

"Move in, get closer."

"I don't think-"

"I don't care what you think you stupid, blabbering idiot, I said get closer!"

As the pilot brought the Panha Shabviz 2061 closer and Tahir got a better look the annoyed look on his face turned into one of almost amusement and amazement. "It's not him."

"It's what?"

"It's not him, it's the damn American!"

\A/

"Nice shot, String. Only two Hinds and the leader to go," Saint John said.

"You might want to cut the praise and take care of my new friends," Hawke bit out before cursing under his breath as 50mm gunfire riddled holes through his fuselage of his 'borrowed' helicopter. The aircraft shuddered and he didn't have to understand the first bit of Russian to know the readings on the instruments weren't good.

Saint John radioed back even as he fought for some semblance of control, the tail now swinging around wildly, or at least what was left of it.

"Everything ok over there?"

"Ok hell. I'll doing good if I can get this overgrown bird down at all."


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

He was going down hard and there wasn't a thing in the world he could do about it, no saving this one, a good possibility of not being able to save himself. He pulled up on the collective and cyclic, doing anything he could to slow his decent but it seemed to be in vain.

Parachute.

Yes, he had seen a parachute around here somewhere, didn't matter he hadn't parachuted in nearly fifteen years. It was the only chance he had, and at least the sand dunes below would be more forgiving than the dense jungles of Vietnam and Laos, wouldn't provide any cover once he got down there, but for the moment he'd focus on getting down there in as few pieces as possible.

One hand still pulling back on the stick, he fumble for the parachute bag, and pulled it on, tugging at the door in a futile effort to escape.

"Come on, come on," he pleaded as the Mi-24 continued plummeting from the sky. The ground was rushing up far faster than he cared to admit, and down with it the chances from bailing out and being able to get out of harm's way before the helicopter crashed were steadily falling.

If only the stupid door would open…He wasn't ready to give up now. There was hope for Saint John and Ellie, he wanted to live to see that day his brother got married, he had Cait, he had Chance; he knew the pain and difficultly of growing up without a father, a pain he wouldn't wish on anyone, and there was no reason why Chance should be forced to go through the same thing, not when this was most likely his last mission.

\A/

"String," Saint John called out frantically, "String, pull out, bail out, something!"

He watched in horror as the huge smoke cloud the Hind was leaving behind turned a darker, thicker black, indicating a broken oil line, even as another alarm went off at the engineer's console behind him.

Missile inbound, infrared seeking. Increasing IR suppression, he flew an evasive action, weaving back and forth as the missile dogged along behind. At last it collided with the sand below, sending up a momentary spray of grainy white granules high into the sky above the explosion. Hitting hard right pedal, he turn around to face his enemy, firing a Copperhead and watching with satisfaction as it imploded violently with the Russian made copter. His satisfaction was short lived though when he turned just in time to see his brother's helicopter plow nose first into the ground. It instantly erupted into a gas fueled fire, orange tongued flames topped by an enormous mushrooming cloud of black smoke, and was greedily devoured by hungry flames of fire until it was almost consumed, leaving nothing more than an occasional burning piece of debris under cover of the dense smoke.

\A/

_The grey wolves dispersed, howling calls of triumph across their new territory, and eagerly exploring the vast extent of the lone wolf's domain that few had dared to challenge and none had succeeded in overtaking. _

_Already forgotten by the pack other than as a victory to gloat over, the bleeding black wolf lay prone and motionless on the damp, fresh dew that covered the jagged outcropping of rock and few blades of grass that grew between the crevices in the stone._

"Daddy!" the word came from Chance's mouth without thought, an unconscious association. "Daddy wolf."

"Shh, Daddy will be ok," Ellie coaxed the worried looking child. "He'll probably be home again by tomorrow."

"No, Daddy not ok," Chance told her adamantly without the slightest question in his voice.

"Sure he is, you'll see."

"Where's Mommy? Want Mommy."

"She went to the store to pick up some things, but she'll be back in a few minutes."

"No, I want Mommy now!" the three year old fussed.

"How about something to eat?" Ellie tried to distract the child before it turned into a full-fledged temper tantrum where she knew it was inevitable headed.

"I want Mommy!" Chance repeated persistently.

"Mommy's here," Caitlin answered as she came back through the front door and set the grocery bags down. "Now what's the problem?"

The three year old ran toward her and hugged himself to her as she picked him up. "Daddy."

"What about Daddy? You miss him?"

Chance nodded tearfully.

"Me too, honey, I miss him too, but he'll be back soon."

"Daddy's not ok," Chance told her.

"He woke up calling for him," the other woman supplied. "I told him it'd be ok, but he tells it's not."

"And he's usually right," Caitlin sighed. "I just hope he isn't this time.

"Come on, sweetie, I'll get you some water then why don't you go back to bed; it's getting pretty late," Caitlin instructed.

"But Daddy…"

"I said bed," Caitlin warned with an authoritative tone. "I'll see if I can find out what's going on with Daddy, and I'll let you know when I find out."


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

**Somewhere in Iran**

**Early Morning**

Sitting up ever so slowly, Saint John didn't need a doctor, or anyone else for that matter, to tell him he wasn't in good shape. He had already been shot in the shoulder, grazed in the side, had the strain of fighting and flying in combat, and now he had watched his brother get shot down. His shoulder hurt like hell, and there was no doubt infection was quickly setting in. Besides that, Tahir's helicopter had gotten away, and he didn't have the faintest clue where Amira was, and flying all the way home in this condition simply wasn't going to happen.

Maybe, if he was lucky, he could contact Michael and relate the predicament he was in to him, possibly see if there were any friendlies in the surrounding area that he might be able to reach. In the meantime, he could see if he could keep the Lady in air long enough to get back to String's crash site and see what, if anything, was left.

Sucking in a deep breath, he summoned all the energy he could muster from the two hours of fragmented sleep he had finally managed to get, knowing that the longer he waited the more difficult it would become.

\A/

"Sorry Cait, but I haven't heard from either one of them recently," the white clad spy told her apologetically.

"Can't you radio them?"

"Tried, still no luck."

"You've got to do something, anything. What if they're stranded somewhere, hurt, lost, I don't know… but you know as well as I do how easily something could have happened, and I can't sit around here doing nothing while Chance keeps telling me something is wrong."

"Chance?" Michael raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Yes Chance," Caitlin suddenly looked a little hesitant. How could she logically explain that a good portion of this sudden outburst was due to her and Hawke's three year old boy who has decided his Dad isn't ok? "Chance," she continued, still holding a bit of trepidation, "had a dream. I don't know what it was, but he seems pretty convinced that something is wrong. I know it sounds crazy, but I believe him. I wasn't too keen on this mission to begin with and Chance and String have… I'm not really sure what they have, but it is some kind of link or bond, a silent understanding between the two of them and sometimes even the Lady herself, but it has proved to be a pretty strong one in the past, and when life or death could be hanging in the balances, I want to do all I can to influence the outcome for the better while I still can."

Why not? Hawke had an unexplainably sharp sense of hearing, and a sort of sixth sense able to sense when danger was near, so why couldn't his son have something similar? It did seem kind of strange acting on account of a young child's dream, but he also knew that if something did happen to Hawke, or heaven forbid, he died, and they could have done something had they been there sooner, she'd never let him live it down.

"I'll see what I can find out," Michael promised, "other than that, there isn't a lot I can do at the moment."

"Thank you for at least that."

Not that it would actually do much good had something happened, the government man though to himself bleakly, but if it'd make her feel better, why not?

\A/

Staggering wearily out of the cockpit, Saint John stumbled toward the previous day's crash site, amazed by how little there actually was left. Here and there he would find a singed piece of equipment or a burnt piece of what was left of the fuselage, but nothing more, and even that was almost completely buried by sand. Taking a step back, he realized he was standing on something hard and bent down to dig it out.

String's watch.

Numb fingers closed around it, tears brimming his eyelids and overflowing down his cheeks, only to fall on the thirsty ground and disappear. This was it, all he had left of String, his only brother, and mostly because Sting had though it was better for him to go after Amira since he wasn't already injured.

Now instead String was gone, and he couldn't fly himself home or even go after Amira and expect to live. Even if he hadn't made it, String and Airwolf probably could have made it back, be able to explain what happened, what went wrong, but now they might never know.

If only there was some way to go back and change things, to make it turn out differently. Unfortunately, it looked like String wasn't coming back and at this rate neither was he. And Amira Bahadili would get away and probably continues to do the same thing she had been, possibly even attacking her own country and killing hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people. All because they couldn't finish the job.

No, that wasn't good enough. His life, or in this case probably his death, ought to mean something, and giving up now was a far cry from finishing what he had set out to do. Even if he couldn't get home when all was said and done, he had to finish the job, to protect the country he swore and oath to protect, and for the sakes of the people he would be leaving behind. He wasn't dead yet though, well on his way there he was afraid, but not yet, and maybe by some miracle he could at least finish the mission on his own and get word back to Michael so that he could break the news to Caitlin and Ellie more gently.

Struggling to his full six foot three inch height, he trudged back toward Airwolf, dropped into the pilot's seat, and started the engines, yet somehow couldn't find the strength within himself to actually liftoff, to leave his brother's final resting place. It just wasn't right, didn't feel like he could really be gone.

Ever since the beginning, he had been taught to avoid flying when emotionally stressed if at all possible because there were too many simple mistakes that could be made, but this time was going to have to be different. The adrenalin and desire for revenge was the only thing he had to run on, and yet…

It was useless, he knew, completely pointless, after all he had seen his brother's chopper go down himself, and it **was not **possible to survive a crash like that, but he had to know for sure, beyond any reasonable doubt. Punching in the buttons from the co-pilot's console, he ran a thermal life scan.

"Nothing but sand for miles," he said aloud, voice barely above a whisper, but it wasn't anything other than what he had been expecting.

He brought up the communications and Michael promptly answered.

"Good to hear from you," the spy greeted, "Caitlin was asking-"

"Don't… don't tell her I'm alive."

"But-" he started to object, but Saint John cut him off.

"Please. Chances are I won't make it back, Amira got away, and String, he's already…"

"Don't you dare tell me that Saint John Hawke. Both of you are too good at what you do for that to happen," Michael cut in.

"If I make it, then great, better surprise for her, but I don't want to reassure her then have her find out we're both dead."

"It's too late for that," Michael told him, "she's already on her way over there."


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

"Shh," the familiar sounding woman said, using only the slightest bit pf pressure to keep him down, "stay where you are."

"Who…" he started to ask, but again she shook her head and indicated for him to remain quiet.

"Save your strength," she told him as she continued to tend to his wounds. "There isn't much medicine here, so I'm afraid I don't have much in the way of painkillers I can give you at the moment, but the doctor is bringing some soon."

"No drugs," he started to say, but quickly cut himself off. Her lightest touch could keep him down, and he knew he was at the mercy of whoever was here because there would be no escaping under his own steam, and much as he hated to admit it, he had a feeling he was going to need quite a bit of help.

"Where am I?"

She answered with a soft smile, "You're a talkative one aren't you?"

"Not usually."

"It's better you don't know. Concentrate on recovering for now."

Recovering from what? He had to wonder. Nothing very minor judging by the way he felt. He was hot and feverish with a excruciating pain shooting all the way from his neck down, and his left arm felt as if it was shredded into a million tiny pieces; managing to breath from his current position on what had to be bruised ribs, if not cracked, was difficult enough, and managing to keep mostly quiet was nearly impossible. He started to shift into what was hoping would be a more comfortable position and make it easier to breath, but the woman serving as nursemaid laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Don't move," she instructed.

"I was just trying to-"

"Don't," she repeated, "you can't."

"And why not?" This was worse than being in the hospital, he thought, hotter, less spacious, and a lot more restrictive.

"You injuries."

"Just how bad are they?" he grimaced as she reached down and continued to bandage his arm. Obviously not too great.

"You…." she hesitated, unsure that she really wanted to reveal the full extent of the damage.

"Fine, then let me up so I can see how bad it is for myself."

"No, you shouldn't."

"I can handle it," he assured her. "I've been in the Army, seen war, and I've been hurt my fair share of times too."

"No, you have to lie down," she insisted.

"Why?" he demanded, beginning to get really irritated.

"Your arm is broken," she told him, "your ribs are bruised, and…"

"And what?"

"I was awaiting a real doctor," she continued.

"Why? What else is there?"

"You have a large piece of shrapnel lodged from the base of your neck all the way down to your lower back."

\A/

Nothing. There was nothing but bits of debris and sand. Saint John found himself kneeled in the sand again, wishing there was someway he could bring his brother back. Now and then he would find bits of dried blood clinging to what was left of the Hind, and wondered how much he had suffered. The ironic thing was that without String flying as a team with him, he probably wouldn't have made it this far, not that it mattered much now. Why did it have to be now though? After all they had been though, together and apart, on the last one. And to make matters worse, if Caitlin didn't get here and find him soon, he would have to destroy Airwolf too to make certain she didn't fall into the wrong hands. And they hadn't even been able to catch Amira Bahadili either - failed mission all around.

If he could find Amira though, he could send a couple of Bullpups her way and at least take care of the problem they had been sent here to solve, but where to even start looking?

Back to where they had started, he finally figured, as good a place to start and then he wouldn't feel completely useless out here in the middle of nowhere. It was still a long shot, but better than nothing.

\A/

"What do you mean gone?" Ellie Mae demanded, her usual calm collectiveness gone by the wayside.

"Gone," Joshua repeated innocently.

"Where?"

"With Aunt Caitlin."

"Oh-no," she moaned. Not only was Caitlin going after two men on a dangerous mission in who knows where on the other side of the world all on account of a kid's dream, but she took the three year old with her! What was that crazy woman thinking?!

"When did they leave?" she asked, hoping she might still have a chance at catching them at the airport. That'd teach her to sleep in on a Saturday morning.

"A while ago," Le chimed in. "It was still dark, maybe five."

In other words, long gone.

"Why didn't you stop her? At the very least make sure she didn't take Chance with her?"

Le shrugged. "I couldn't have. I've lived with her and Uncle String, and I know how they operate. It could be raining fire and brimstone and she would still find a way to go. If she took Chance along I'm sure she had some reasoning for it."

"She's worried about them, we all are, but she isn't thinking clearly and she's going to end up getting herself into trouble."

"Believe me, she knows exactly what she is getting herself into, and this wouldn't be the first time she's done it. I'd be on the plane with her right now if she hadn't said I needed to stay to watch over you and Joshua. "


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Maybe his luck wasn't quite run out after all, Saint John thought as he approached the group of tents with many people hurrying back and forth between them. Of course they could always be cannibalistic man eaters thinking he would make a nice dinner, but chances were they weren't, and hopefully they'd seen Amira in her travels out of town.

"Hey, uh, ma'am," he called out to a passing by resident, "could you help me? I'm looking for someone and I was hoping you could help me."

She stood silently in front of him for a moment, until it occurred to him she probably didn't speak English. Unfortunately, she probably didn't speak Vietnamese or Spanish either and he would be out of luck.

Finally she nodded, seeming to have figured out what his request meant. "Who looking for?" she asked in broken English.

"Her name is Amira Bahadili. She has dark skin, brown eyes, brown hair, and is about…" he stopped short, realizing he could be describing any woman in the entire camp. Maybe he was out of luck after all.

"Yes, Amira here," the woman said, pointing to a tent off in the distance. "I'm sister, I show you."

He followed her to the tent and waited outside as the Iranian woman said she'd tell her sister of his arrival.

"A moment please," she said as she reappeared from the inside, being brushed past by an older man obviously in a hurry, murmuring something in Farsi as he passed.

"Doctor," she explained, "man inside hurt badly." She paused a moment, evaluating him wordlessly. "You don't look so good either."

"Not feeling so great," he admitted, "but it's very important I see Amira. When will she be done?" In a way, he hated having to kill her now. Obviously she was at least somewhat of a doctor and cared for by the rest of the people here. On the other hand, of she really was making dealings with Tahir and recruiting the way he had been told she was, he had no choice.

"I see. Amira see you too, make you feel better, and Mr. Abou-Ali."

"I'll be ok," he lied, feeling suddenly lightheaded. "I need to speak with her as soon as possible though."

"She help you," the woman insisted, ducking back into the tent.

Well at least he'd get to see her, Saint John thought to himself, not like he would be in any position to eliminate the threat, but he'd see her, probably just long enough for her to realize who he was and do him in though. Figures. His musings were interrupted suddenly by two women speaking in their own native tongue, followed by the loud cry of pain from whoever was inside.

Images flashing before his eyes, he could almost feel his brother's pain as the out of control helicopter impacted violently into the ground below, the shudder that flung his body from its seat as it burst into flames and threw burning metal bits, biting into his skin, and slicing through the very sinews that held him together. He could almost feel the heat… He could hear the screams…

Blinking several times rapidly, trying to rid himself of the all too real nightmare, he realized he actually _could _hear the screams.

Great, I really am loosing it. No, it was there. He could _almost _feel the pain, see the blood, experience the fear. _Almost._

But he _**could **_hear the screams. Here and now, they were real.

Without thinking, he flung open the tent flaps and stepped inside, met with a strange mixture of emotion as he did_** s**_o.

Amira was here all right, but she no longer was the center of his attention. Laying now silent on the bed in front of them was none other than Stringfellow Hawke.

"My gosh, String…."

He took a stumbling step forward, grateful for the surprisingly strong supporting hands from Amira's sister as she helped him to a nearby cot.

Surprise mixed with joy and grief intertwined themselves together and threatened to drown him in a sudden flood of emotion.

"You're alive…" was all he could say. Somehow it had never seemed right he was gone, yet that was how it was, or had appeared.

The room grew deathly quiet as he fought to get the strength to find his feet. The younger brother remained quiet and unmoving however.

"He's not… is he?" He had gone too far for that to happen now. Life may not be fair, but he couldn't bear to have that robbed from him again.

"No," Amira shook her head slowly. "It's not good though."

"How bad is it?"

"Shrapnel from the neck down. He'll be damn lucky if he's not paralyzed, but so far he doesn't appear to be. It's in there good though, and right along the spinal cord. I've already given him some Pipecorunium and morphine, but we need to get him to a real hospital as soon as possible. He already spent the first night out in the weather, amazing he has hung on this long, but it'd be easy for the shrapnel to shift, and if it damages the spinal cord he could be paralyzed for life."

"If we can get him to Airwolf, I'll fly him to the nearest hospital."

"You aren't flying him anywhere in your current condition, Mr. Hawke, and that's final so don't waste your energy arguing. I've contacted the FIRM and they said they just had someone arrive in country and will send them over immediately with a medivac chopper. Until then, I suggest you lie down or I'll have to give you the same treatment I gave your brother."


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

True to her word, Amira made sure that he stayed firmly planted on the cot where he could rest until help arrived. And it was probably for the better that was, he knew, otherwise he would just be uselessly pacing the none too large tent, but wasn't there something he could do? Sure, he had felt better, a lot better, but that wasn't the main issue at the moment. String was hurt bad and needed immediate medical attention, something he would get a lot faster with Airwolf.

"It would do neither one of you any good if you passed out at the controls and plowed nose first into the ground," Amira said interrupting his thoughts, "the chopper will be here soon enough."

Sure it would. In the meantime his brother was forced to go through agony while he sat here and did nothing.

"You do as much as move one finger…" she warned.

"Yeah, I know. It's been ten minutes at least already though and I could've been to the hospital twice by now," Saint John complained, "I do feel better now, I can make it. Please."

"First off, it's only been seven minutes. Secondly, you wouldn't make it two minutes at mach, if anything you look worse and the Huey is coming in now."

Huey, as if he didn't have enough regrets.

_The once white bandage was now soaked through a crimson red, but at least the bleeding seemed to be slowing, now if only he could get back to the camp, any American camp actually. Not like that was likely to happen any time soon. He wasn't going anywhere far on his own, and the constant noise of rotors overhead had faded. He was out here alone._

_Wait. Was that a Huey he heard? The helicopter came closer and the noise more identifiable. Definitely a Huey. Why was it alone though? String, he suddenly knew; he didn't know how he did, but he knew it had to be. Who else would be stupid enough to fly around here after dark? Charlie infested this area like mosquitoes, and written rule or not, there was no point in even trying to advance on them here in the dark; it had been tried before, and the casualties were just too high._

_Stupid kid probably knew he'd get busted down a rank for it too, if not worse. Nevertheless, it was appreciated and definitely not something he'd ever forget._

Now just about every time he heard or saw one of those very familiar UH-1's he was reminded of String's selfless bravery, and wished there was some way he could repay him, instead it looked like he was going to be in it right beside him. Again.

"I'm about a mile out, you said it was the far tent to the east, right?"

Could it be? No. Michael did say she was already on her way though.

"Roger that. See you when you get here."

Only a minutes later, he could hear the chopper land just outside, fell the downwash of the rotors as the pilot slid out, not even bothering to shut down the engines, then all his suspicions were confirmed as the fiery redhead entered.

\A/

"I can make it on my own," Saint John objected.

"It wasn't an offer, it was an order. Now put you arm around my shoulder and let me help you out there, or so help me, I'll carry you."

Reluctantly Saint John obliged. It was embarrassing enough having to be helped to the chopper, but having her carry him would be absolutely humiliating, and he no doubt she would do it either. With Amira he had a feeling it was her was or the highway, and at the moment he couldn't afford to choose the later, much less be able to find one around here.

"You have any medical training?" she asked Caitlin as Saint John climbed aboard the helicopter.

"Just my highway patrol training and what I've learned doing things like this."

"Should be enough and probably about as much as I've got. You tend to those two pains, I'll fly."

Caitlin nodded and climbed in while Amira took the pilot's seat and pulled on the headset.

"What is this?"

Cait suddenly grinned, but before she could answer, her husband broke in. "That would be Chance, my replacement, and your new co-pilot."

\A/

"How're you holding up?"

"I've been better, but it could be worse I guess. I think the morphine is starting to where off though."

"There's more, I could-"

"No," he answered with a pinched expression. "I'm sure they'll; give me my fair share of painkillers once we get there. Besides, makes things fuzzy and it's been too long since I've seen you."

"It hasn't been that long."

"Most a week…" his voice trailed off as he drifted into unconsciousness again.

"How much did you give him?"

"Enough. We're almost there anyway. How's Saint John doing?"

"Holding on," he answered himself.

"Good, hospital just came into my sights, we should be there in a matter of minutes. I'll get you out and send up reinforcements for your brother."

"Shouldn't we get him help first?"

"This won't take much longer for him and it'll be a lot quicker for you, and you need it as much as he does."

"He could be paralyzed and you-"

"Your condition is worsening though," Amira interrupted. "His is stable at the moment. It isn't negotiable, you and I go in, and I'll send up help for him, that's just how it is."

Forget Amira's way or the highway, it was her way or she forced you to do it her way.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

"So nobody has any idea where this Tahir guy has gone to or exactly what he is planning?" Caitlin checked after Amira brought her up to speed on what had been going on.

"We knew he headed out of Agha Jari this morning and he doesn't typically fly because it would be too obvious on a private flight around here and security is too tight on commercial. With Airwolf's speed and scanners, we should be able to find him without too much difficulty if we move soon."

"What about String and Saint John, are they going to be alright?"

"Too early to say anything for sure yet, but Saint John hasn't been getting much worse. Your husband is still in surgery."

"My… How'd you figure that one out?"

"It wasn't a very difficult conclusion to come to."

"How long `til he's out? If possible, I'd like to see him before going."

"What're you waiting for? Surely in this business you've seen a bit of blood before."

"Yes, but…"

"But nothing. I'll get you a pair of scrubs and you wash up. Tell him you love him and where you're going, that you'll be back soon and all that so we can get out of here. Take the kid while you're at it. I don't think he'll shut up until he sees him anyway."

"Thanks."

"Thanks for what? I'm not doing anything; you have to tell him all that yourself because I sure ain't tellin' him I love him. He'd probably hop right off the operating table and deck me right there, not that I'd blame him, but you'd hate for us to get into a brawl right there in the ER."

"I'll tell him myself then," Caitlin said, grabbing Chance and heading off to wash.

\A/

"You're going after Tahir, aren't you?" Saint John asked even as she stepped inside the room.

"Yeah."

"Be careful. He has something big going on, and I don't want you stuck in the middle of it."

"I will, although Amira and I are hoping to catch him off guard."

"She's not-" he stopped himself short. He couldn't say much about Amira now that she saved probably his and his brother's life, he just had to trust that she was who she said she was and hope for the best. Literally. He _couldn't_ physically do much more than that. "Leave Chance though," it was as much an order as a plea for sanity. He shouldn't even be over here in the first place, the reason he was was beyond him, but there was no reason to put him even more in harm's way either.

"I can't, there's nowhere to leave him."

"Here. I can look after him while you're gone, what a couple hours?"

"I shouldn't."

"Please, Cait, for his sake. Don't put him in harm's way."

"Who is to say he would be any safer here?"

"You know he would. We're in a hospital, it doesn't get much safer."

"Tahir is a consciousless terrorist; he doesn't care who he kills, and a hospital would be an easy target."

"Yet you're obviously comfortable enough to leave String and I here."

"Don't say it like that! I don't have much choice there considering you would probably both end up dead anyway if I didn't."

"I know how dangerous he is, and wish you didn't have to go either, but don't drag him along with you. If nothing else, for String. If something was to happen, and I'm not saying it will, but if it did, he couldn't survive loosing both of you."

"Fine. I'll leave him, but it I hear either of you was causing any trouble, you'll be getting an earful."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Hugging Saint John and then Chance, she said goodbye and went to join Amira in the Huey.

"About time you showed up."

"Sorry, I-"

"Yeah, I know," she said as she started the helo. "When'd the FIRM start letting families work together anyway? I had to pull quite a few strings just to get assigned near my sister, and even then she doesn't get to know most of what's going on."

"We work for Michael on the Airwolf program, that's about it, not much of going through the Committee, and actually I just found out we aren't even supposed to be here at all. The program has been cut, and we're running off of reserve funds for this one, but it looks like this'll be it unless Michael can persuade them to reinstate it."

"Interesting. Glad I didn't waste any more time trying to pull off this crazy shenanigan or I might've been out of luck. Michael's got his moments you just want to hurl something at him, but all in all he's a pretty nice guy. I know it'd sure make my life easier if I could just work with him, but then again, I wouldn't have met some of the people I've met."

Amira landed the helicopter outside the camp next to where Airwolf had been left and powered down the engines while Caitlin climbed into Airwolf and brought the systems online.

"I've got a reading on an SUV with three people inside about sixty miles out," Caitlin reported as Amira joined her, looks like they have some heavy artillery with them too."

"I think we've got our guy."


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

The nurse guided the gurney into the empty hospital room and with the help of another orderly moved the unconscious man from the gurney onto the bed and set up an antibacterial IV drip.

"Doctors did a pretty good job on him, didn't they?" the younger woman idly commented as she stuck him with the needle in the right arm.

"They better have. Did you see how close that piece of shrapnel was to his spinal cord? Any closer and it would've sawed it right in half." She shook her head at the memory of them bringing him in. "You wouldn't believe some of the ones Amira brings in, but this is the worst I've seen for quite a while."

"Does she usually drop them and run like that though?"

"She's already gone?" the slightly plump older nurse asked in surprise. "I've never seen her leave before a surgery was over."

"Yeah, she and some redhead practically ran out the door a little while ago."

"That's strange, wonder what all the hurry is about."

"I don't know," the brunette answered as she finished setting up the IV. "That's all set. Will he be awake by the time we make dinner rounds?"

"He should be I think. I just don't know if he'll be up to it after that surgery. Something like that has to be a pretty big shock on the systems."

"I'll come by and check on him later then, best let him get his rest for now."

"How is your other new patient doing? I think he had an infection or something?"

"From a gunshot wound a few days old that wasn't kept up properly, got a bunch of sand in it or some such."

"Sand? Around here?" the other remarked sarcastically. "Never."

"It's true… actually, he's right there," she said, pointing to a sandy haired patient with an IV stand wandering the halls.

"Shouldn't he be…"

"Yeah, he should." She had only taken a step toward him when he took a hold of her shoulder, face pale. "Sir," she addressed.

"Sinj," he mumbled absently, still scanning the corridors.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me back to your room."

"No, Chance. I have to find Chance or Cait'll kill me."

"Nobody's going to be killing anybody, please come with me," she said, taking hold of his hand and guiding him back down the way he had just come.

"String," Saint John said, an idea suddenly coming to him. "Stringfellow Hawke - what room is he in?"

"You've got a terrible fever, absolutely burning up, you need to go back to your room."

"No, I have to find String."

"I think he's delusional," she told her counterpart, "could you help me-"

"I don't need any help. I'm just fine," Saint John insisted, wrenching himself free from her grip. "Stringfellow - which room?"

"I don't-"

"You don't forget a name like Stringfellow Hawke! Now which room is he in?!"

\A/

"That's him directly ahead."

"Load a small canon. It's-"

"Got it."

That was fast, Caitlin though to herself, she'd have to watch out or she'd have some competition for her spot on the team.

She fired the canon in front of the vehicle, forcing them off the road.

"You missed," Amira pointed out.

"The goal isn't to kill them, at least not until they give us reason to make that our goal."

"A stickler for technicalities, I see. I've got a Maverick loaded for when they start throwing things at us and we are _allowed _to blow them up.

"Which I'd say would be right about now. Rocket on your six."

Caitlin banked left to avoid the shoulder launched rocket and came around for a second pass.

"Blow them away already."

Dodging another rocket, Caitlin fired the Maverick. The missile imploded with the car, shattering glass and erupting into a larger fire as the unused ammunition inside caught fire.

"Now let's get out of here."

\A/

All was quiet again and thankfully with him calming down and doing as she told him, the nurse had been persuaded not to give him any tranquilizers. Now she was gone and he could continue his hunt for the missing child and his brother.

He had a feeling that if he found one, he would find both, but he couldn't exactly go door to door until he found his brother's room, especially considering he might or might not be conscious yet after the anesthesia. And there was still the issue of avoiding the nurses he had to content with.

It wasn't that big of a hospital though, and he had to be around somewhere. Somewhere - now that was terribly helpful.

The nurses that had stopped him had been coming from the far end of the hall and sounded like they were talking about a new patient. It wasn't for sure, but it was possible, and at least it gave him somewhere to start.

Taking his antibiotic drip bag in his left hand and sitting up carefully as to avoid further agitating the dull achy feeling he had in his shoulder and ribs, he peered out of the room to make sure the coast was clear then shuffled down the hall in search of his brother and nephew.


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Blinking blearily a few times, the world around him slowly came somewhat more into focus. He could hear the constant beeps and hiss of machinery around him, enough for him to recognize it as a hospital, but everything had an echoing far away sound to it. He could vaguely pick out what might've been a conversation, or maybe just a TV, but nothing distinct.

He was breathing without the aid of a ventilator or any kind of intubation which was more than he could say for himself in some previous hospitals stays, but it still felt like he was working a bit hard for each breath, like something was hindering his ability to suck in a full breath.

As for what else was in the immediate area at the moment, he couldn't pick out anything specifically and at the moment he was too tired to care, letting his heavy eyelids droop until at last he fell asleep again.

When he re-awoke, he had the feeling it was quite a bit later and the blurry yet blinding light no longer filtered though the open blinds.

The details were still a bit fuzzy, and he was far more tired than he felt he should be after sleeping as long as he did, but he could now pick out most of his surroundings.

The room was fairly dark now except for what light was left from the setting sun and what eeked in from the hall. Finally most of the details of the last two days came back to him - the crash, struggling to disentangle himself from the parachute after a rough landing, ending up giving up in exasperation even more tangled than he had started, the unbearable pain that coursed through his entire body, especially concentrated in his wrist and back, followed by a remarkably cold night after a hot day baking in the desert; after that someone had picked him up and taken him to some kind of camp, but all he could remember after that was not being able to move then some very strange dreams.

Now the pain was mostly gone, but he barely had the strength to sit up, what were they giving him for it? It had to be something pretty strong to mask that much pain, and he already didn't like the hangover-like feeling it gave him, but was that really such a bad trade considering the options?

Looking down, he suddenly realized why it was so hard to breath or move, and couldn't resist the hint of a smile that tugged at his lips.

He should've known.

"Hey, buddy," he greeted, voice dry and hoarse.

Chance abruptly stirred, raising incredibly blue eyes to meet his father's identical ones. "Daddy," he grinned.

"Yeah, Daddy. A bit worse for wear, but still Daddy."

He looked around the room once more, half expecting to see everyone else gathered around, but the room was empty.

"Do you know where everyone else is?"

"Mommy leaved and Uncle Sinj was sleeping a long time like Daddy."

Saint John. He had been flying the Lady when his copter was about to go down, and he had automatically assumed he had been the one to bring him in, but Chance was here, so he had no reason to doubt Cait knew. But he didn't know Saint John had brought him in, maybe he was as bad off as he was, maybe worse.

Perhaps it wasn't all a dream… No, he knew it wasn't because he could vaguely remember introducing Chance to Amira, her new co-pilot. So she could fly a helicopter….. That or Chance really did, and while he definitely saw no problem with starting young, maybe three was a little too early. He should probably wait until he was four or five at least, he thought even as a wry grin crept across his face.

So where had Cait gone? And what had happened to Saint John? It looked like he and Chance were on their own there.

"Do you know where Uncle Sinj is?" he asked the kid hopefully.

"He was sleeping in his room."

"Can you show me where his room is?"

Nodding, Chance agreed, sliding off the bed and allowing his father to draw in his first deep breath since before he had woken up.

Slowly sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed, carefully trying to conceal some of the pain he felt as the boy gave him a worried look. "Daddy ok?"

"Fine," he answered, detaching the IV needle and folding the tape on itself so the alarm wouldn't go off at the sudden lack of pressure. "Let's go find them."

Chance walked around to take his right hand instead of the left which was closer to him, and he found himself wondering why until he noticed his left was bandaged and slung. Yes he was in a lot of pain and on something which he knew they had him pretty doped on, but that was no excuse for not even realizing his arm was broken. Maybe trekking down the hall wasn't such a good idea after all. He still had to see how Saint John was though, and if the nurses still thought he was out cold they wouldn't be as likely to be checking on him every five minutes like they would be once they knew he was looking for trouble.

Chance waited patiently as his father found his feet which fortunately held his weight and took a few tentative steps forward. He led him down the hall for what seemed like an eternity, but when he opened the door he found the bed to be empty. Actually, the whole room was unoccupied. Was that a good thing or not?

The bed wasn't made up nor did it look like it hadn't been occupied at all in which case he might think Chance had mistakenly led him to the wrong place, but what did it mean then? Maybe he was worse off, that they had suddenly had to move him to the ICU, or worse….

No, that couldn't be. He would know if that was the case.

Wouldn't he?

"He was in here," Chance avowed," I saw him sleeping."

"Come on, let's go back to the other room." He could ask once he got back, and one thing was for sure "I don't know" or "I can't tell you" wasn't going to cut it.


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Grasping the wall railing and out of breath, Saint John took a break, still anxiously wondering where his brother and nephew could be. If all had gone well, Caitlin and Amira would be back anytime now, and the nurse shift was about to change, making it very probable he would get caught if he didn't high tail it back to his room before then, and he was just as clueless as to their whereabouts.

Deciding he better get a move on before he was found out, he started back again, nearly running into the person that had suddenly appeared right in front of him.

"Sorry, I….hey, it's about time I run into you, had me half scared to death when I found your room empty."

"I could say the same thing about you. How are you? And where is Caitlin?"

"Cait and Amira went after Tahir, but I finally convinced her to leave Chance here, he got away from me and I've been looking for you and him while avoiding nurses for a while now. Me personally, I should live; I've got an antibiotic drip for now because of the infection, but nothing too major. Speaking of major, shouldn't you be resting? I figured you would be out for a while after that surgery."

"Honestly, I don't even remember half of what happened."

"It looked like your left arm went through a blender and you had shrapnel stuck from your neck down."

"That good, huh?"

"String, an inch over and you would've been paralyzed for the rest of your life, if not dead," the older brother warned in a more serious tone.

"Maybe that would explain why I feel like I do, thought I was just getting old or something."

"Or something." He knew why String was joking around about something so serious, same reason he would, same reason a lot of guys would. To be perfectly honest, it scared the hell out of him. If they didn't joke and play around abut it they'd be too afraid of what could happen or almost did; they wouldn't be any good in a similar situation because they knew what could happen. They had all done it at some point, easier to joke about it than dwell on what might've been, but there was such a thing as taking it too far.

"I guess this will put me out of the running for missions for a while, if there are any more. And we'd better get back to somebody's room before we're caught roaming the halls. Cait would skin us all alive if she knew."

"The nurses too," Saint John agreed, "they don't look too kindly on their injured patients roaming the halls for some reason and no one believed me when I said I was looking for a Stringfellow."

His brother shrugged, "for some reason, I'm not actually all that surprised. I know what you mean about them not wanting us lurking in the hallway though."

"Then why are you both so insistent on doing it?" the somewhat agitated looking nurse behind them asked.

"I can explain," Saint John started.

"No need, you're both going back to your room and I expect you to stay there. And where does this kid belong?"

"With me," both men answered simultaneously.

\A/

"Well, the hospital hasn't burned down and so far it doesn't look like anything too disastrous has happened," Amira Bahadili commented as they returned to the small FIRM medical center.

"Which probably means they've fled the area."

"It's a highly secured special operations hospital," Amira reminded.

"Wouldn't be the first time they've escaped."

"They were hurt pretty badly."

"Again, I'm not so sure it would stop them. Neither one of them likes hospitals particularly, and both have a remarkable disregard for any kind of rules or authority over them, and when you put the two of them together…"

"I see what you mean. I guess it all depends on whether or not they met Niki yet or not then."

"Why?"

"She won't put up with that kind of nonsense and believe me, she had seen enough injured agents in her time to know all the tricks."

Stepping out of the elevator onto the second floor, Caitlin said she would check on Saint John first and relieve him form babysitting duty then see what was going on with String. Amira nodded and said she'd be right behind her.

Walking into Saint John's room, she couldn't help but smile in amusement. "I'd say they did run into Niki." Saint John was asleep in one bed on the left side of the room and now another bed and cot were moved in next to it, occupied by the also sleeping Stringfellow and Chance Hawke. "That or they all ran into a cart of tranquilizers."


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

**A Few Days Later…**

Caitlin O'Shaunessey Hawke walked down the corridor to the nurse's station, intending to check out the eager to escape brothers, but she was met by one of the nurses she had gotten to know fairly well in the last couple days.

"They finally succeeded," she told her, "not too long ago, but we've looked high and low everywhere we can think of. They're gone."

"About how long ago?"

"Two hours at most. I had just finished writing up their referral transcripts to the clinic in Van Nuys when I went to check on them one last time before you showed up, but they weren't there."

"Thanks anyway. I'll find them."

Shaking her head as she went, Caitlin went out the way she had come in and started back out to the jeep she had borrowed from Amira when Chance shook his hand free from her grip and ran across the parking lot shouting 'Daddy!' all the way.

"Ah, String, what if she doesn't realize we're here?" Saint John teased.

"I think she'll figure it out," he said, hoisting up the boy as he ran towards him and hugged him tight. "She doesn't look too excited about it for some reason though."

"So much for not lifting anything heavy for a while."

"He's not that heavy, besides, I have a while to rest and recuperate on the way back; it's a long flight even in the Lady."

"I suppose it wasn't Amira that flew over here either, was it?"

"She tells me she can't fly a chopper," Saint John joined in.

"That's what I heard too."

Amira only gave them a look that could have killed had she not been about to crack up.

"Well, I can tell you this much, you **are not **flying at all on the trip back, end of story."

"I know," he replied with an impenitent grin. "I was going to let Chance. It's about time he learns don't you think? After all, he does turn four tomorrow."


End file.
